Today's weigh-in, and other issues.

Pic caption: My car is as close to this as I am to Brad Pitt. We might be the same make, but don't look quite the same.


God does have a sense of humour, the little roister doister.
Had a great weigh-in, as it were, down to 15 st 10 lbs today, which feels like some proper progress down through the 15s rather than hanging round the border regions with 16, not making any real commitment to the new world ahead.
So that's great and in my head I think it has to do with stepping up the running and ditching the chocolate last week.
Even if that isn't the reason, I'm going to content myself that it is, and so be able to remember that when I next feel a chocolate wobble coming on.
So feeling all happy about that I didn't even mind the force 9 gale I had to battle through that seem to be sweeping the country, not complaining of course, things are clearly much worse elsewhere.
But my mood was brought crashing down to soggy wet earth after a quick phone call from the garage where my car is being serviced, to be told there's a whole load of other problems and if I want it fixed (which I should because it could be dangerous), then it'll cost me just over £500, inc VAT. Nice one.
Whoever it is upstairs clearly likes to inflate your hapiness one moment, merely to make the bubble perfect to burst with the other.
There's nothing quite like a call from a garage to make a grown man weep. I should rename my car the Citroen Bottomless Pit, which would also be handy rhyming slang for it.
I know it's my fault for buying French. I happen to like France and all things of that country, and I simply refuse to believe every single car that rolls of the channel ferry from that great historic nation, has bits falling off or hasn't been put together properly.
Still, I also managed to score a couple of weeks freelance work in December today which was two good bits of news against the one big bad bit of news. So I'm still up, I reckon. And I'll need that couple of weeks work even more now!