stingy

We're all familiar with the annoyance at being offered pizza and chips, and in actuality being given a slender slice and half a potato. Although in fairness, it's been a while since I've been invited round to someone's house for tea. Not least as with age I have adopted the southern term, "dinner". Anyway, I have recently been re-experiencing this annoyance on an almost daily basis. Yep readers, we're back to ranting about the perils of diets.

I've given up the cheese filled tortellini in favour of the tomato, olive and red pepper ones. One star to me. I think to myself, "well, if I was cooking my own pasta I'd be a little less stingy, but it this fresh pack only takes 2 mins and looks nice. I'll give it a try." In my conscientiousness I check the calorie counter. Well, it means I'll have to replace the hefty helping of sauce for some low-everything reduced-fat all-the-tastiness-taken-out-of-it vinaigrette on salad, but it's just about do-able. And then I see the two words that have come to haunt me: "serving suggestion". I know that what follows will be sheer panic. Usually because it imparts that only a meagre quarter of the pack fills you with enough calories to last a week, or something. I'm sick of it. When am I allowed to enjoy food again? I hope it's soon!

Moon. xxx

PS I have ordered a new camera. Although there's a slight delay with the delivery, it shouldn't be too long it until I'm able to take snaps of unnecessary things and blog about them.