I have absolutely no reason to be depressed so I think it was probably the combination of not taking my happy pill for a couple of days and putting on one pound in weight.
Now I know 1lb is nothing but it's what it says:
a) Look how easy it is to put on weight. Fat cells are like balloons and get easier to fill each consecutive time.
b) This isn't a diet; it's a life change.
I made two further mistakes.
1) I browsed through the recipes in a magazine. Every single one contained more calories than I am allowed in my lifestyle-changed eating regime. I love cooking; I love eating. I know I can adapt them to be lower fat and just not eat such big portions but the mood I was in, I wasn't going to consider something as sensible as that.
2) Disgusted with the recipes I picked up my writing magazine - and read about all the competitions I won't win and the publishers who'll reject me.
Oh, yes, I was a miserable moo.
Then I went into the kitchen where the not-slow-cooked meat in the oven was still as tough as horse hide. Aaaarrrggghhhh!
So I spent the evening cwtched on the sofa with Husband falling asleep in front of an old Midsomer Murders.
But today the sun is shining, I'm feeling dynamic and all is right with the world. And I've remembered to take my happy pill.