Zoe’s diary: ‘I have turned into a stress eater of late, guzzling down my emotions with zeal’

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Furthermore, the inevitable delays in finding a resolution to this trial and the continued search for justice (we victims of Mati have been waiting for nearly five years for answers) has left all involved feeling terribly frustrated. Again, I can’t escape the feeling that once more my life has been forcibly put on hold, though in this instance I’m very aware I’m not alone in that sentiment.

The jigsaw is definitely incomplete — perhaps I need to accept that in some ways it will remain that way forever. In life we frequently don’t get the answers we most desperately want to hear.

​On a lighter note, or not so light as the case may be, there’s the new year’s resolution that was always bound to end in tears — I am, of course, referring to my annual post-Chrimbo diet. I decided 2023 was the year to clean up my act and embrace a health kick — the one area I should be able to control is my ever-expanding waistline. This resolution has proven to be dramatically unsuccessful.

Naturally, I would like nothing more than to blame my failure on some external factor like the peri-menopause, or better still, fool myself into believing that some mysterious curse has beset my household, forcing me to indulge in several dozen pounds of Camembert (damn you cheese, the foe I hate to love) and countless buckets of dry roasted peanuts over the last two months.

Ultimately, I know I only have myself to blame for this sorry state of affairs. Furthermore, there’s no point in constantly accusing the weighing scales of being a dirty downright liar, though for the interim I’ve decided to banish her to the spare room until she decides to play fair and give me a break.

The truth of the matter is that I’ve turned into a stress eater of late, guzzling down my emotions with zeal (and more often than not, a side serving of chips) so the time has come to break those bad habits and take responsibility.​

​So while some of my plans have gone astray of late (you got a taste of the top three, but there’s at least another half dozen that have likewise gone off the rails), I’ve decided that feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to turn these circumstances around.

I’m taking back the reins where I can. No more perusing the property websites daydreaming about the perfect new home — that will present itself if and when fate decides the time is right. Likewise, I will attempt not to stalk the Greek newsfeeds about the ongoing court case. Perhaps limiting myself to a once-weekly update will help ease my angst.

I’ve issued a self-imposed barring order from the cheese counter in my local SuperValu (their dairy profits will probably plummet) and am embracing a stringent new exercise routine… or as stringent as these wonky legs will allow. I’m even considering adopting my own black cat to introduce some positive karmic energy into my universe, so I won’t have to rely on that cantankerous creature who gave me the paw the other day.

Considering I topped this article with a famous quote, I’ll take the plagiarising route once more and tail it with another. John Lennon said, ‘Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans’, so perhaps that’s key. Less planning, more living — I’ll give it my best shot!