Wake up at 7am. Get up at 7:30 ish, once radio 4 has finished telling me what’s going on in the world. Drink a cup of tea and be ready to go supermarket shopping by 8, because J hired a car this weekend and I’m damned if I’ll let him take it back before we’ve used it for something helpful. And on the short drive to the shop I feel:
overheated; nauseous; faint; angry; tired; shaky; tearful.
Why? Because I’ve been awake for over an hour and haven’t eaten.*
This happens every time I don’t eat within half an hour of waking, and I’ve got so used to it that I forget this isn’t what most people experience. I’ve been avoiding going to see a doctor about my eating habits, because a now not-so-secret fear of mine is that I’ll end up with an eating disorder and not be able to enjoy food ever again. But I think I might have reached a point where seeing a doctor might be helpful.
*Dear anybody who ever stays in my house,
If I’m surprised that you don’t immediately raid my fridge, freezer and cupboards in search of breakfast foods when you wake up, this is why. Oh – and this is why I give guests the living room (also the kitchen) to sleep in. Just in case they get peckish.