The Very Hungry Cat(t)erpillar

I've started doing showbiz stuff again at work. This basically means late nights, no real social life, lots of standing around alone at parties looking like a stalker whilst waiting to ask celebrities inane questions, a disgusting amount of empty calories in the form of free Champagne and a very poor diet.

I worked at a premiere on Sunday and my food intake for the day went something like this:

8am-7pm:
Nothing (lie-in, followed by frantic outfit cobbling together and general lateness)

7pm-9.30pm:
One hastily purchased, soggy-bottomed cheese and tomato bagel from Snax at Embankment
One bag of popcorn and two bottles of water, kindly left on cinema seat by flunkie

9.30pm - midnight
Three mini wraps
One party-size duck pancake
Four tiny crab cakes
One small bowl of fish chowder
Two satay sticks
One novelty trifle in a shot glass
One novelty chocolate mousse in a shot glass
Another novelty trifle in a shot glass just to make sure the first one was as nice as I thought it was (it was)
One peach and strawberry tequila shot (in a strawberry salted glass, mmm)
About 700 Champagne top-ups

I'm not convinced that this diet is nutritionally balanced. I lived off it for a year before and didn't seem to die, but that's probably because I learned from my esteemed mentor Caroline that if you stand by the kitchen and flirt with the waiters, you get enough canapés to make up a dinner-sized portion.

Last night I dined on crab claws, miniature steak sandwiches, itsy-bitsy helpings of steak tatare, muscles and more Champagne, before going home to microwave some M&S veggies and wash them down with half a bottle of red.

How the hell am I supposed to detox and monitor my calorie intake when smiling youths in white shirts and black trousers keep forcing large china spoons containing unidentified garlicy, herby, fish flakes on small green leaves into my face? I've got no idea if I'm eating well or not. It's an absurd way to carry on. Then again, it doesn't involve any cooking or shopping and is free, so I suppose I'll just keep loitering by the kitchen looking for a convenient pot plant in which to offload my spent satay stick.