Day 125 & 126: The Mounjaro Freeze, PS5 Widowhood & Surviving Snowpocalypse 2025 (all 11 snowflakes)

Nov 19
4 min read

Buckle up.

This one is LONG, chaotic and dripping in that signature Mounjaro-induced madness.

Before We Begin: Mounjaro Truly Said “New Phone, Who Dis?” to My Habits

Honestly - can we have a moment for the habit rewiring this pen has done? Because 125 days in, I’ve realised Mounjaro is basically that strict but loving Eastern European auntie who smacks the pierogi out of your hand and shouts “NO! Eat half! Better yet, don’t eat at all!!! Drink tea!!! THINK ABOUT YOUR CHOICES!!!”

I’m talking:

Jeans falling off like they no longer want to be associated with me.

Clothes I bought last month already looking like I borrowed them from a giant.

Eating a bagel and beans and calling it a FEAST.

Herbal teas suddenly becoming “hydration.”

Watching other people finish full plates like it’s the finale of a cooking show.

Falling asleep at 6 PM like a pensioner after a day at the bingo.

Waking up with the energy of a resurrected Greek deity except with a stiff neck, sore throat and mild hatred for the British weather.

And even when the scale acts like a stubborn, toxic ex who refuses to give me the validation I deserve - I STILL see changes.

My body: transforming.

My mindset: evolving.

My stomach: still a witches’ cauldron but we move.

If gastroparesis could politely exit stage left, I’d actually ascend into my final form.

DAY 125 – Tuesday

Theme of the Day: “Stay away from work drama. Do NOT engage.”

Narrator: she absolutely engaged mentally, spiritually, telepathically -

just not verbally.

So Tuesday began with the sacred ritual: coffee + collagen (because we are wellness), followed by a small bagel with ham and a tiny pot of baked beans. And when I say tiny, I mean the portion size of a fairy’s midnight snack.

Who craves beans at 8 AM?

Me.

Apparently me now.

Thank you Mounjaro, Queen of Random Cravings.

Work was doing… work things.

Drama swirling like I’m in season four of some corporate telenovela. I reminded myself “do not get involved” because these people would argue with their own shadow if given the chance.

Did I eat lunch?

No.

Did I drink 6 herbal teas pretending it counts as lunch?

Yes.

Did my stomach finally stop making sounds like someone was casting spells in there?

Also yes.

Praise be.

Dinner came early because I’m basically a toddler now: M&S oven-baked chicken bites with the sacred Green Goddess dip - the dip that has spiritually healed me more than therapy ever could.

Then everything went downhill.

I sat on the sofa ready to watch something, but my other half… ohhh my other half. Glued to the PS5 like he was training for the Olympics of button smashing.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t notice my existence. I’m convinced if the house was on fire he’d still say, “one sec babe, I’m mid-mission.”

So I did what any emotionally mature adult on Mounjaro would do:

I went to bed at 6 PM.

SIX.

IN.

THE.

EVENING.

In the middle of the week.

Like an elderly polar bear settling in for hibernation.

I wrapped myself in the duvet like a human burrito, put on Netflix on my phone, blinked once and fell asleep.

Woke up at 9 PM confused like a medieval peasant transported into the future.

Then went right back to sleep.

Who am I?

Why am I?

How am I this tired?

Is this the Mounjaro Freeze™?

Should I start storing fish under the bed for winter?

DAY 126 – Wednesday

Theme of the Day: “Woke up like I’d been asleep since 2009.”

I opened my eyes and genuinely thought I’d entered a different century. But no.

Just Wednesday.

Symptoms included:

stiff neck

headache

sore throat

runny nose

existential dread because I am meant to fly in 10 days and do NOT have time for plague

I had coffee because I needed life support, then had to dash to a dentist appointment at 8:30 AM.

And when I say dash, I mean AQUAPLANE.

It was raining sideways.

Raining like the clouds were personally offended by my plans.

The roads?

Rivers.

The traffic?

Chaos.

The drivers?

Entitled various SUV people protecting their paint from the hedges like the bushes are armed.

Pretty sure I went into a ditch at least twice because apparently I must sacrifice myself so Mr. Financial Advisor in a Range Rover doesn’t get a single leaf on his shiny metal box.

Dentist update:

7 more aligners.

10 days each.

Over 2 more months of plastic in my mouth.

Add that to the two years I already did.

My teeth better come out looking like they were sculpted by Michelangelo.

Drove back, made it just in time for the meeting where I pretended to be fine but internally screamed.

Then - SNOW.

Actual, real snowflakes.

All 11 of them.

The country: “SHUT EVERYTHING DOWN! CANCEL TRAINS! PANIC!”

Me: “Oooh pretty”

But tomorrow I’m meant to meet the girls for dinner (well… starter), so these snowflakes better not ruin my social life.

Tomorrow is also weigh-in day.

Scales better behave.

If they go up… the drama I will unleash… I will sue gravity.

The workday was fine-ish.

Ruby visited several times, tail shaped like a question mark because she is pure curiosity and light.

Molly snored in the spare room like she pays rent.

Honestly, I want to be a cat.

Sleep all day, snacks on demand, zero responsibilities, everyone calls you cute even when you look like a dust bunny.

Lunch was soup.

Light.

Dainty.

Non-threatening.

Did I finish it?

No.

Because Mounjaro.

After work, Ruby had her annual vaccination.

My other half drove while I held her like the emotional support human I am. She cried once and my soul disintegrated.

Came home, still not hungry.

Didn’t eat dinner.

Who am I becoming???

Then I watched two episodes of The Beast in Me (WILD) and a bit of Celebrity MasterChef.