Day One...too many pancakes

My stomach is still full from the marshmallow, chocolate and chocolate spread pancake indulgence of the night before and then a disgusting church louse (some, most, people call these woodlice, but my Mum is from Galway and we have always been the weird kids that say church lice) anyway, the little bugger crosses my path in the kitchen first thing in the morning. Ordinarly, a chorus of swearing would greet the creature as I sweep it up and throw it outside. I keep quiet and my stomach lurches as I get rid of the wriggly, crunchy...thing. Yuck. Lent is upon me. I take this as my opportunity to give up swearing. Apparently I have the mouth of a sailor, swearing every few words. So now I must actively listen to myself speak and be aware of my curses.

I have already noticed the number of times my colleagues swear. I'm not sure whether my shock sensitivity has just been heightened or whether I'm just up on my high horse, but I am realising how vulgar it sounds.

Oh but I miss it... There is nothing like a good appropriate swear in some circumstances. I have such a colourful vocabulary of swears in my repertoire too. I might have to write them down before I forget the sheer capacity of different offensive words that I will now erradicate from my every day language. They will be perfectly acceptable for use with any reference to football after these 40 days.

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46 days?!! I just spoke to my sister (who is giving up chocolate in it's solid form, so she can continue to drink hot chocolate and the odd chocolate milkshake, because she doesn't really drink tea and she likes something hot...apparently) Lent, this year, is 46 days. shocking. This could be harder than I thought.

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7 swears for the day, that I noticed, including one massive F*** at the top of my voice. Ooops. I gave up junk food too, that's a breeze.