Firstly, it's a bit tricky in the summer hols when I want to jog and Sonshine wants to lie in the garden burning greenfly with a magnifying glass.
Secondly - and perhaps more honestly - I'm feeling just so dispirited because I'm now one pound off 12 stone - the heaviest I've ever been. The thought of hauling my carcass through the green byways of the island leaves me cold.
And I hate myself for letting things get to this stage.
Tertarus thinks that it's just a case of reducing my intake and increasing my activity. Poor deluded fool! That might be how it works for him, but for me, it's an ongoing battle for my very SOUL.
Here's what goes on inside my head....
'Right, Mistresses is on TV tonight - fab - I think I'll just have a cup of herbal tea (virtuous) and settle down to watch the latest misdeeds of the Fantastic Four.
I go to the kitchen and boil the kettle. As I stand there, I think that it might be nice to have a little snackerel of something tasty. Just a single cracker with a shaving of cheese....
Virtuous Me: Noooooooooooo don't do it - you're not hungry, so don't eat it!!!
Despondent Me: Just Shut up. I'm already a wobbly blob. My husband doesn't come near me. What's the point? I'm just going to bloody well eat it.
Virtuous Me: Don't do it - you'll hate yourself afterwards - you know you will!!!
Despondent me then pokes fingers into ears and starts 'la-la-la-ing' very loudly to drown out Virtuous Me.
I go to the fridge and bring out the cheese....and the butter.....and several crackers from the biscuit tin.
Virtuous me is mentally stuffing everything back into the fridge, but the bloody-minded Despondent me is carrying on regardless with a constantly running loop of 'just eat it, no-one cares what size you are, besides - these three won't make that much difference - you're already such a bloater - and you can start dieting it off tomorrow. If you get heavy now, then think of how fab you'll feel when you lose the extra weight! So you're REALLY doing Virtuous Me a favour.....
Virtuous me then interjects: You are not a troll! You're just a bit overweight - it's not too bad.
Virtuous Me then bites her tongue, realising that she has been tricked into saying something that gives Despondent me the upper hand.
The eyes of Despondent Me take on a mad glitter: So are you saying that it's OK for me to have these crackers? That I'm not as bad as I think I am?
Virtuous me gets really upset, realising that she is losing the argument hauls out memories of all the Starts and Stops and attempts to lose weight that have failed.
Despondent me defiantly puts out a fourth cheese cracker. VM shrugs her shoulders, admits defeat and goes upstairs to bed.
Despondent me takes her herbal tea and plateful of crackers and settles down to watch Mistresses. A moment later, I look down and the crackers are gone, all that is left are a few tiny crumbs. I don't even remember tasting them, let alone enjoying them.....I then eat the crumbs.
On retiring to bed later, Virtuous Me throws a book onto the bed - Fat Nation. 'A waistline of 35" or more indicates a liklihood to developing late onset diabetes, heart disease and stroke, ' says the book. What are my measurements these days? I wonder.
I rummage about in the blanket box at the top of the stairs for my sewing box and produce the tape measure. Dear God. More than 35" around the waist. A few inches more to be honest.
Tertarus peers at me over the top of his Evo Mag. 'What ARE you doing?'
'Measuring my waist'
'I don't really have one anymore. I have gone from being a curvy girl to being basically a log with tits'.
Tertarus, damningly, says nothing.
Virtous me folds her arms and throws down a challenge: 'And so what are you going to do about it? You could jog! You could swim! You could walk! You've got a Wii fit! You've got a hula hoop! What you HAVEN'T got is any more TIME to piss about.'
The final straw was this morning when I pulled on my big and baggy gardening trousers....and the velcro at the waist opened with a tired sigh as I sat down to breakfast.
'I'm doing a fry up today. Want one?' says Tertarus.
Dumbly and feeling humiliated, I shake my head and start making porridge instead.