So today I flew through Dundrum with an hour to find an outfit for a wedding, remembering what it was like to fit into size 14 jeans, and swearing to drink water and excercise most thoroughly for the next few days.
Then half an hour of getting stressed out by the kids and their screaming, and I'm roaming the kitchen, swearing to make BANANA MUFFINS by the batch load and thinking about butter.
Comfort eating, dears, is a harsh mistress.
3 comments:
You're telling me... I had three ice creams as dessert tonight.
For me it's this damn insomnia wherein my twitching old hips (that makes them sound a lot more fun than they are) keep me awake, paining me and making me move, trying to get comfortable until I get up and EAT something. I haven't done this sort of eating in years.
Isn't that always the way. Good intentions are so easily quashed by the thoughts of sugar and laziness.
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