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?
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.
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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