Some secrets we discover hit us like a snooker ball in the chest. Others creep up on us, terrorizing our sleep patterns and haunting our daydreams. Yet others unveil at a most opportune time how close we could have been to teetering over the horizon and into the unknown.
I thought that by giving up my succulent portions of deliciously greasy and crispy Indian pancake for breakfast (roti canai), I would achieve the weight loss I had always been looking for, replacing my mornings with a hot drink and if absolutely necessary (which I must emphasise for those who know my addiction to chocolate, were few and far between), a chocolate chip muffin. Nearly half a year later, my no-breakfast policy shows little effect (actually it shows a lot of effect which I would rather it not!) and I am close to throwing myself into a liquid-only diet to try lose calories my body magnetically attracts.
Today suddenly in coversation I found that my nemesis for weight loss lay quietly hiding in my daily morning cup of chocolate malt (Milo). To make things worse, I was discreetly informed that my so-called weight-loss breakfast was more calorific than any ammunition the greasiest Indian pancake could attack me with.
After some deliberation, I figured that my waistline was more important to me than the potential of hurting the coffee lady's feelings by telling her I wasn't going to have anymore morning chocolate malts.
Let's see how much I lose by Christmas. CW: 5x.xxkg; GW: 48kg.