I should be satisfied after polishing off a 16 oz. bag of Snyders’ Hard Pretzels…. but I am not. Remember last week or before, I said that it feels akin to watching someone with the disease, Prader Willi just eat and eat?
Well, at this moment in time, I am not sure if it is my brain telling me to keep eating (and frankly, if my brain does in fact have a tumor… do I want to disappoint that monster?) or if it is just lil o’l me asking for more… but something’s got to give.
Now, I begin my day with either yogurt and fruit or my carb free crap but somewhere in between morning snack and bedtime, I just cannot stop. I mean it, I know I am full… or should be, but that feeling of “don’t eat another bite,” is not prominent in my rationale. Its almost as if I need a break from the Thanksgiving table, to walk around and stretch, before I continue my meal massacre.
Even worse, I feel like a 1980 Hartmann or Samsonite piece of luggage, where one has to sit on the bag to close it…. that is the exact description of how I am stuffing myself. As if I can pack one more plushy/fleecey onesie into the outside pouch- no problem.
The only real silver lining here is, my kids won’t be able to sell tickets to the Shamu Show while we’re still in the yellow. Well, that and no longer being glared at as I park in the “Expecting Mother’s” spot at the market.