I feel sick. I have heartburn, and I never have heartburn. I had it really bad when I was pregnant but that's not my problem this time.
I've just eaten myself stupid. Again.
I've been letting my diet slide over the last couple of weeks and this weekend, I really did 'er in. I baked pie, knowing I would be getting a birthday cake for Hanna. We had a chocolate free for all on Friday night. And I've made a lot of carb-o-licious dinners on top of all the junk. I literally feel like I've gained 5 pounds of solid fat in the past 3 days, even though it's basically impossible. Because that would mean I would have had to eat an excess of 7500 calories over what my body burns off. And that would just make me....well, it would mean I had eating super powers. And while I admit that I can eat a lot (I give a grown 200 pound man a run for his money most days), I can't eat THAT much.
But still, I feel horrible as a result of my gluttony. Not to mention the mental torture I've been putting myself through. I'm constantly preaching about how important a healthful diet is and trying to model good behavior for my children so they can learn from my example. But right now I feel like a big hypocrite. I don't claim to be perfect. I have food meltdowns. I like fried fatty food and sugar just as much as the next addict.
I'm sitting here in my fat pants, just me and my heartburn, crying over the latest Victoria's Secret catalog, feeling like a hideous pig, and blogging. I think I'm gonna rank that up there with drunk dialing. Dangerous.
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