8.45am: In a surge of early-morning rebellion, bypass habitual porridge oats, and go straight for the office biscuit tin.
8.50am: Make Earl Grey tea with posh Parisian tea leaves using the same elaborate (and moderately painful) process as yesterday.
9am: Coralie (colleague) pityingly offers to pay for some Earl Grey tea bags – if I go and get them.
9.15am: Marks and Spencer’s is filled with white-haired ladies clutching flamboyantly iced cakes. Want cake.
9.20am: Buy Earl Grey tea bags (torturously positioned next to luxury chocolate biscuits) with Coralie's money. Buy brown roll and a high-end M&S tomato with my own (might as well sort lunch out).
Total (minus the teabags) = 61p
Money left = £12.37
9.30am: Mug of tea and a pair of Pound Shop digestives from the office tin.
9.32am: Discover that Pound Shop digestives do not withstand tea-dipping.
9.38pm: Why is biscuit dipped in tea amazing, but biscuity sludge in bottom of mug gross?
1pm: Starving, and definitely on a sugar-downer; hurriedly make tomato roll.
1.15pm: Predictably, still hungry.
2pm: Search absent colleague's desk drawers for edible things. Find none.
6pm: Hate the tube; hate the Central Line; hate everyone on the Central Line. Why doesn't everyone just refuse to use the tube until Boris makes it bigger? Or just only let small people on, or something...
6.35pm: Through door. Need food fast.
6.45pm: Dinner = porridge oats. Pathetic Ruth-Ellen, simply pathetic.
7pm: Listen to blurry tales of dance-floor romance from a very hungover cousin.
8pm: Boyfriend arrives, clutching Tesco’s bag.
8.30pm: Feel little wave of guilt that boyfriend has to bring his own food with him.
8.45pm: Feeling intensifies as I eat some of his avocado.
8.50pm: Definite pangs of guilt as I relieve him of some of his quiche (roasted pepper and mushroom) and a little bit of tomato.
8.51pm: Taste buds jangling in delight.
9.30pm: Cousin orders herself a pizza, under the logic that her hangover is demanding a pudding, and it is only really acceptable to get a pudding, if she gets a pizza as well.
10pm: Start getting ready for bed whilst hearing cousin angrily shout at pizza delivery man who won't walk up the stairs to our flat.
Friday, 30 April 2010
Thursday, 29 April 2010
day 22
8.45pm: Two fried eggs, four crisped-up rashers of streaky bacon, one large sausage, crumbly chunks of black pudding, fried bread (thick and white), fried mushrooms, beans (Heinz), and a generous dollop of Daddy's sauce.
Oh wait, sorry - I mean cold porridge oats out of a mug. Sigh.
9am: Hungry.
1pm: Remembered lunch today - SHOCK! - so heat up remaining rice/tomato mixture in microwave.
1.06pm: Relish the luxury of warm food.
1.30pm: Little nap on desk. (And yes Mum, that is allowed during lunch break.)
1.53pm: Woken up by huge body twitch.
2pm: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Absolute. Disaster.
We've run out of Earl Grey teabags. Normal tea is supplied, but pretentious tea has to be bought by us. And, shamefully or impressively, depending on your personal tea beliefs, I only drink pretentious tea.
2.15pm: Find a pot of loose Earl Grey tea leaves a French tea place sent us a while back as a bribe to get featured in our Paris guide.
2.17pm: Formulate cunning plan to hurdle obstacle of no tea strainer.
2.19pm: Make a rip in normal teabag. Pour out normal tea.
2.20pm: Fill empty bag with pretentious Earl Grey tea leaves.
2.21pm: Pinch together ripped part of teabag, and hold over mug.
2.22pm: Pour boiling water over tea bag (and fingertips).
2.24pm: Admire steaming mug of slightly Earl Grey flavoured boiling water.
6.30pm: Go to boyfriend's house and brace myself for a dinner of value fish fingers and wilted white cabbage.
6.31pm: Cabbage is well and truly off.
6.35pm: Get VERY easily persuaded by boyfriend to eat one of his bean burgers (he's a bit posh) instead.
Oh wait, sorry - I mean cold porridge oats out of a mug. Sigh.
9am: Hungry.
1pm: Remembered lunch today - SHOCK! - so heat up remaining rice/tomato mixture in microwave.
1.06pm: Relish the luxury of warm food.
1.30pm: Little nap on desk. (And yes Mum, that is allowed during lunch break.)
1.53pm: Woken up by huge body twitch.
2pm: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Absolute. Disaster.
We've run out of Earl Grey teabags. Normal tea is supplied, but pretentious tea has to be bought by us. And, shamefully or impressively, depending on your personal tea beliefs, I only drink pretentious tea.
2.15pm: Find a pot of loose Earl Grey tea leaves a French tea place sent us a while back as a bribe to get featured in our Paris guide.
2.17pm: Formulate cunning plan to hurdle obstacle of no tea strainer.
2.19pm: Make a rip in normal teabag. Pour out normal tea.
2.20pm: Fill empty bag with pretentious Earl Grey tea leaves.
2.21pm: Pinch together ripped part of teabag, and hold over mug.
2.22pm: Pour boiling water over tea bag (and fingertips).
2.24pm: Admire steaming mug of slightly Earl Grey flavoured boiling water.
6.30pm: Go to boyfriend's house and brace myself for a dinner of value fish fingers and wilted white cabbage.
6.31pm: Cabbage is well and truly off.
6.35pm: Get VERY easily persuaded by boyfriend to eat one of his bean burgers (he's a bit posh) instead.
Wednesday, 28 April 2010
day 21
8.45am: It is amazing just how far one bag of oats can stretch. Still got a quarter left!
1pm: Want something nice. Go to M&S with tiny hope of being able to find a bargain.
1.15pm: Leave M&S with:
one freshly baked granary roll 31p
one (very high-brow looking) tomato 16p
one portion of Port Salut cheese 40p (treat)
Total = 87p
Money left = £12.98
1.30pm: Bloody lovely cheese and tomato roll. And, considering it was all the finest ingredients all for 87p, pretty good value.
6.15pm: Tesco's on Bethnal Green Road.
6.35pm: After queuing for way too long, buy:
one can of chopped value tomatoes 33p
two carrots 14p
Total = 47p
Money left = £12.51
7pm: Whip up rice/tinned toms/chopped carrot concoction under the somewhat unenthusiastic watch of cousin, who poses such questions as "what on earth are you making?" and "is that it?"
7.10pm: Rejoice at discovery of last cheese portion I bought last week. Grate over food.
7.30pm: Block out immense cravings for sugar and/or alcohol with sorting frenzy.
7.35pm: File bank statements and pay slips in date order.
7.50pm: Tidy underwear drawer.
8pm: Watch "Embarrassing Bodies" on Channel 4 On Demand, and promptly lose all food cravings thanks to the detailed documentation of an operation to remove an anal abscess.
1pm: Want something nice. Go to M&S with tiny hope of being able to find a bargain.
1.15pm: Leave M&S with:
one freshly baked granary roll 31p
one (very high-brow looking) tomato 16p
one portion of Port Salut cheese 40p (treat)
Total = 87p
Money left = £12.98
1.30pm: Bloody lovely cheese and tomato roll. And, considering it was all the finest ingredients all for 87p, pretty good value.
6.15pm: Tesco's on Bethnal Green Road.
6.35pm: After queuing for way too long, buy:
one can of chopped value tomatoes 33p
two carrots 14p
Total = 47p
Money left = £12.51
7pm: Whip up rice/tinned toms/chopped carrot concoction under the somewhat unenthusiastic watch of cousin, who poses such questions as "what on earth are you making?" and "is that it?"
7.10pm: Rejoice at discovery of last cheese portion I bought last week. Grate over food.
7.30pm: Block out immense cravings for sugar and/or alcohol with sorting frenzy.
7.35pm: File bank statements and pay slips in date order.
7.50pm: Tidy underwear drawer.
8pm: Watch "Embarrassing Bodies" on Channel 4 On Demand, and promptly lose all food cravings thanks to the detailed documentation of an operation to remove an anal abscess.
day 20
7.15am: Shovel remaining coleslaw into tub to take for lunch.
7.45am: Leave house without tub.
8.45am: Eat cold porridge oats in kitchen whilst internally berating myself for being such a retard.
1pm: Go to kitchen to have porridge oats for lunch (could have bought something else, but decided my retardedness deserved to be punished).
1.04pm: Sara (aka The Spanish Angel) puts a firm stop to porridge lunch, and provides rivitas, parma ham, cherry tomatoes and cheddar.
2pm: Colin offers round chocolate tea cake things. Today's menu is not so bad after all!
7pm: Watch friend and boyfriend munch quiche lorraine, new potatoes with mint, and fresh herb salad, whilst I eat four value fish fingers and the tub of (now extremely soggy) coleslaw that was intended for lunch.
7.45am: Leave house without tub.
8.45am: Eat cold porridge oats in kitchen whilst internally berating myself for being such a retard.
1pm: Go to kitchen to have porridge oats for lunch (could have bought something else, but decided my retardedness deserved to be punished).
1.04pm: Sara (aka The Spanish Angel) puts a firm stop to porridge lunch, and provides rivitas, parma ham, cherry tomatoes and cheddar.
2pm: Colin offers round chocolate tea cake things. Today's menu is not so bad after all!
7pm: Watch friend and boyfriend munch quiche lorraine, new potatoes with mint, and fresh herb salad, whilst I eat four value fish fingers and the tub of (now extremely soggy) coleslaw that was intended for lunch.
Monday, 26 April 2010
day 19
10.30am: Skating-induced laziness.
11am: Eat (small) bowl of boyfriend's Cheerios, for it is Sunday: the day of rest (from porridge).
11.30am: Explode into cleaning frenzy which results in a face-to-face stand off with World's Largest Spider.
11.31am: Emit high-pitched girly whimpers.
11.32am: Frantically wave hoover nozzle at spider (which is gripping the carpet and resisting all suction).
11.33am: Got it - ha! In your eight-legged face.
11.35am: Definitely time to leave the house.
12pm: Stroll around Angel, and somehow end up in Sainsbury's scanning the shelves for reduced food.
12.10pm: You can buy a packet of chicken stock cubes for 10p?! I spent half a day boiling a manky chicken carcass, sieving out a whole rainbow of fat and gristle, and you can buy chicken stock cubes for 10p?!
12.20pm: Leave Sainsbury’s with:
frozen value fish fingers £1 (no idea why)
chicken stock cubes 10p
crusty bread roll 30p
Total = £1.40
Money left = £13.85
1.30pm: Lunch of coleslaw and bread roll. Mayonnaise has gone a bit translucent over night, but, all in all, lunch is not bad, not bad at all.
3pm: Go to pub to heap praise on bearded friend who just ran the London Marathon (in 3hrs 25mins, which is like, well fast).
3pm-5pm: Slowly sip two consecutive pints of water pretending it is COMPLETELY FINE that everyone else is lubricating a lazy Sunday afternoon with beer and cider.
6.30pm: Dinner of rice, cabbage and a very wilted half-an-onion that I'm not 100% sure is mine, but is definitely well past the state that someone not living on £1-a-day would consider edible.
6.45pm: Boyfriend's housemate smugly tucks into a large carton of assorted Chinese takeaway. Breath in deeply to fully inhale greasey takeaway scent.
6.46pm: Realise that what I am doing is very weird, and leave the room.
11am: Eat (small) bowl of boyfriend's Cheerios, for it is Sunday: the day of rest (from porridge).
11.30am: Explode into cleaning frenzy which results in a face-to-face stand off with World's Largest Spider.
11.31am: Emit high-pitched girly whimpers.
11.32am: Frantically wave hoover nozzle at spider (which is gripping the carpet and resisting all suction).
11.33am: Got it - ha! In your eight-legged face.
11.35am: Definitely time to leave the house.
12pm: Stroll around Angel, and somehow end up in Sainsbury's scanning the shelves for reduced food.
12.10pm: You can buy a packet of chicken stock cubes for 10p?! I spent half a day boiling a manky chicken carcass, sieving out a whole rainbow of fat and gristle, and you can buy chicken stock cubes for 10p?!
12.20pm: Leave Sainsbury’s with:
frozen value fish fingers £1 (no idea why)
chicken stock cubes 10p
crusty bread roll 30p
Total = £1.40
Money left = £13.85
1.30pm: Lunch of coleslaw and bread roll. Mayonnaise has gone a bit translucent over night, but, all in all, lunch is not bad, not bad at all.
3pm: Go to pub to heap praise on bearded friend who just ran the London Marathon (in 3hrs 25mins, which is like, well fast).
3pm-5pm: Slowly sip two consecutive pints of water pretending it is COMPLETELY FINE that everyone else is lubricating a lazy Sunday afternoon with beer and cider.
6.30pm: Dinner of rice, cabbage and a very wilted half-an-onion that I'm not 100% sure is mine, but is definitely well past the state that someone not living on £1-a-day would consider edible.
6.45pm: Boyfriend's housemate smugly tucks into a large carton of assorted Chinese takeaway. Breath in deeply to fully inhale greasey takeaway scent.
6.46pm: Realise that what I am doing is very weird, and leave the room.
day 18
7am: Irritation of being awake at 7am on a Saturday is evasoslightly outweighed by joy at glorious sunshine streaming through window.
8am: Porridge. Yawn.
9am-11.30am: Read in garden in sun. Happy.
12pm: Sainsbury’s.
12.05pm: Resume previous day's fury at the extortionate price of meaty goods.
12.10pm: It really is VERY difficult to eat healthily on a tight budget.
One Sainsbury’s orange = 31p; one large pack of Sainsbury’s value shortbread = 30p... a hulking great value Swiss roll is the same price as two tomatoes... celery is more expensive than a multipack of crisps...
12.12pm: Cabbage and carrots are cheap. Homemade coleslaw it is.
12.15pm: Stare dubiously at 500ml jar of extra value mayo (38p) that Sainsburys claim "mixes with everything". Everything? Hmmm.
12.18pm: Ditch "Sainsbury’s value mayonnaise” (38p for 500ml) for slightly more upmarket "Sainsbury’s' mayonnaise” (56p for 250ml). The latter may be more money for quite literally half as much, but this one looks far less like pva glue.
12.20pm: Leave Sainsbury’s with:
one white cabbage 67p
three carrots 35p
one onion 16p
one orange 31p (sod the expense, I need vitamins)
jar of mayo 56p
Total = £2.05
Money left = £15.25
1.15pm: Use half the cabbage, all the onion, all the carrots and half the mayo in the creation of a ridiculously large amount of coleslaw.
1.20pm: Last potato (which is going green) completes lunch of jacket potato and rather rustic looking coleslaw.
7pm: Head to a hen party dressed up in 'funky disco' attire (the designated theme), me in tiny hotpants and a large gold spandex belt, and my friend Kim sporting bright pink fishnets and an even brighter pink wig.
7.30pm: Walk up Holloway Road just as Emirates stadium kicks out the world's entire population of drunk Arsenal fans. Quickly regret 'funky disco' attire.
8pm: Eat as many sausage rolls/wheat crunchies/humous-dipped carrot sticks as is possible whilst still managing to hold some semblance of conversation.
8.30pm: Piously turn down offer of wine, saying firmly that it is just not right me drinking anything alcoholic, as am living on £1-a-day, and have not brought any to contribute. Water is fine.
8.31pm: Am rather swiftly persuaded that if someone offers you wine, you should definitely accept. Mmmm wine.
9.30pm: Head to Renaissance Rooms roller disco* in Vauxhall (www.renaissancerooms.co.uk) for an evening of spandex-clad wobbling on wheels.
*Emailed them earlier in the week explaining my £1-a-day charity mission, and the kind-spirited roller disco folk said I could come in for free. Will put the £15 I would've spent on entry towards my target charity ££s. Thanks roller disco folk.
8am: Porridge. Yawn.
9am-11.30am: Read in garden in sun. Happy.
12pm: Sainsbury’s.
12.05pm: Resume previous day's fury at the extortionate price of meaty goods.
12.10pm: It really is VERY difficult to eat healthily on a tight budget.
One Sainsbury’s orange = 31p; one large pack of Sainsbury’s value shortbread = 30p... a hulking great value Swiss roll is the same price as two tomatoes... celery is more expensive than a multipack of crisps...
12.12pm: Cabbage and carrots are cheap. Homemade coleslaw it is.
12.15pm: Stare dubiously at 500ml jar of extra value mayo (38p) that Sainsburys claim "mixes with everything". Everything? Hmmm.
12.18pm: Ditch "Sainsbury’s value mayonnaise” (38p for 500ml) for slightly more upmarket "Sainsbury’s' mayonnaise” (56p for 250ml). The latter may be more money for quite literally half as much, but this one looks far less like pva glue.
12.20pm: Leave Sainsbury’s with:
one white cabbage 67p
three carrots 35p
one onion 16p
one orange 31p (sod the expense, I need vitamins)
jar of mayo 56p
Total = £2.05
Money left = £15.25
1.15pm: Use half the cabbage, all the onion, all the carrots and half the mayo in the creation of a ridiculously large amount of coleslaw.
1.20pm: Last potato (which is going green) completes lunch of jacket potato and rather rustic looking coleslaw.
7pm: Head to a hen party dressed up in 'funky disco' attire (the designated theme), me in tiny hotpants and a large gold spandex belt, and my friend Kim sporting bright pink fishnets and an even brighter pink wig.
7.30pm: Walk up Holloway Road just as Emirates stadium kicks out the world's entire population of drunk Arsenal fans. Quickly regret 'funky disco' attire.
8pm: Eat as many sausage rolls/wheat crunchies/humous-dipped carrot sticks as is possible whilst still managing to hold some semblance of conversation.
8.30pm: Piously turn down offer of wine, saying firmly that it is just not right me drinking anything alcoholic, as am living on £1-a-day, and have not brought any to contribute. Water is fine.
8.31pm: Am rather swiftly persuaded that if someone offers you wine, you should definitely accept. Mmmm wine.
9.30pm: Head to Renaissance Rooms roller disco* in Vauxhall (www.renaissancerooms.co.uk) for an evening of spandex-clad wobbling on wheels.
*Emailed them earlier in the week explaining my £1-a-day charity mission, and the kind-spirited roller disco folk said I could come in for free. Will put the £15 I would've spent on entry towards my target charity ££s. Thanks roller disco folk.
Friday, 23 April 2010
day 17
7.30pm: Rush out of flat and, once again, forget lunch.
8.45am: Still got a bit of donated cereal left. Hurrah.
8.47am: Whoever puts the daily supply of milk in our work fridge appears to be running behind schedule.
8.49am: Moisten cereal with tap water (insert sad face).
10am: Cheer self up with biscuit. Since several co-workers discovered the Pound Shop's mega-value biscuit collection, the office communal biscuit hoard has been flourishing. Could theoretically live off out-of-date jammie dodgers and imitation chocolate bourbons for remaining 13 days.
1pm: Cereal for lunch. This time with milk.
1.15pm: Cheer self up with three jammie dodgers.
2pm: Edit the food and drink section of South Africa travel guide - essentially a rundown of BBQ-ed meats.
2.10pm: Need steak/sausages/anything resembling meat. Why is meat so expensive? Cows are huge. Surely it takes more effort to create the right balance of artificial chemicals necessary for 9p chicken flavoured instant noodles, than it does to cut off a bit of cow?
2.15pm: Maybe we should just all have our own little collection of live stock.
2.30pm: Could I really eat an animal I had named and reared?
2.32pm: Yes.
2.45pm: Two more jammie dodgers are not doing anything to pacify meat cravings.
5.45pm: On packed tube, with face mere milometers from sweaty man devouring a Big Mac. Eating on the tube should be banned. And why does all McFood smell the same?
6.30pm: Jacket potato with two portions of cheese (and no meat).
8.45am: Still got a bit of donated cereal left. Hurrah.
8.47am: Whoever puts the daily supply of milk in our work fridge appears to be running behind schedule.
8.49am: Moisten cereal with tap water (insert sad face).
10am: Cheer self up with biscuit. Since several co-workers discovered the Pound Shop's mega-value biscuit collection, the office communal biscuit hoard has been flourishing. Could theoretically live off out-of-date jammie dodgers and imitation chocolate bourbons for remaining 13 days.
1pm: Cereal for lunch. This time with milk.
1.15pm: Cheer self up with three jammie dodgers.
2pm: Edit the food and drink section of South Africa travel guide - essentially a rundown of BBQ-ed meats.
2.10pm: Need steak/sausages/anything resembling meat. Why is meat so expensive? Cows are huge. Surely it takes more effort to create the right balance of artificial chemicals necessary for 9p chicken flavoured instant noodles, than it does to cut off a bit of cow?
2.15pm: Maybe we should just all have our own little collection of live stock.
2.30pm: Could I really eat an animal I had named and reared?
2.32pm: Yes.
2.45pm: Two more jammie dodgers are not doing anything to pacify meat cravings.
5.45pm: On packed tube, with face mere milometers from sweaty man devouring a Big Mac. Eating on the tube should be banned. And why does all McFood smell the same?
6.30pm: Jacket potato with two portions of cheese (and no meat).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)