It was dark, windy and snowy today. I felt like Dr. Zhivago's mailman.
Every year around this time, I imagine that I will stay on my diet until just before Christmas, and every year, including this one, I go off days before I want to. I always decide that working as late as I do, in weather as bad as it is, I don't want to be hungry, too. Of course, since I have no self control I just trade hunger for nausea. It makes me loathe myself, but isn't hating your life the way we're supposed to receive our Saviour at Christmas. Really eating this much is practically my Christian duty.
My motto lately (okay, I don't have a motto, but I do say this a lot in an annoying way) has been "Burn calories, not gasoline." Since I've been eating so much, I feel like a virtual National Reserve for calories. While I was typing this our neighbor brought down her annual plate of Christmas cookies. While I was talking about how loathsome I've become, I ate all the cookies. Oh wretched man that I am.