Good Friday proves my best lockdown day so far, better even than the one when Amazon delivered my new four-socket surge-protected extension lead.
All food bets are off around the Christmas period: a lawless time when it feels reasonable to have fudge for breakfast and you can drink Hofmeister at 10am without anyone raising an eyebrow. So as going to the effort of making one burger seems a waste of energy, I'm going to have two.
I ended the year as I lived it: doing something to a standard that was acceptable but ultimately fell short of its potential.
I am trying the 5:2 diet, because I heard it facilitated George Osborne's transformation from awful bastard into slightly thinner awful bastard. This requires planning, especially where lunch is concerned, because it turns out that on your low-calorie days getting the turkey club sandwich from Sainsbury's will mean all you're allowed to eat for the rest of the day is dust and grass.