The fur-bearing carpet in the sitting room must be vacuumed TODAY. And after that bit of light resistance training, I shall go to the gym.

I have completed my first week of intermittent fasting with a loss of five pounds. Now, that was almost certainly bloat, but I'm glad to see the back of it.

It's interesting how conditioned we are to fear even the slightest pang of hunger. Himself still expresses concern that I don't eat breakfast, although I have repeatedly told him that I am not hungry until mid-morning at the earliest. But I am reluctant to set about any task more demanding than loading the washing machine on an empty stomach *for fear that I will be hungry*! I am learning to wait for an actual hunger pang before eating, and it really does slow me down.

On the other hand, I have noticed that I feel weak and unwilling when I am thirsty. Half-way downtown, after only about three-quarters of a mile, I am pushing my legs to pick up my feet -- unless I have brought a water bottle. A couple of swigs and I'm ready to go again.

Both obvious, and weird. Weird that at my advanced age I'm finally noticing. Duh.