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It’s a day before Thanksgiving as I sit watching my 5th hour of the CSI Marathon and wonder how I’ve gotten so fat in less than a week. I think I might be a “sleep eater”. Is that a real disorder (or a clever rationalization)? It’s either “slumber snacking” or my metabolism has finally slowed down to that of a dead person’s. Granted, I’m 44 and haven’t been working out 3 times a week, like I know I should, but WTF?
I happened upon a newly formed, spare tire while sitting in the audience of an alcohol counseling class for a family member. I was horrified more by my own “rolls” than I was the graphic, drunk tales. As I touched my middle, I was moved to tears. How did this happen?
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I admit that I’m guilty of doing the emotional eating/reward-yourself-with-tasty-treats-simply-for-being-alive snacking at night, but does that manifest in a giant ass? Apparently, it does.
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Has it finally come down to me eating salads, protein and fruit not only during the day, but before bedtime, too? I’m not sure life is worth living if I have to munch on apples and celery in my “jammers” on the couch every night watching my “stories”.
I guess I’d better get bigger jeans.
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