Confessions

Maybe it's my Roman Catholic upbringing, but I can't go to sleep tonight without confessing my "sins." I lied. I had something to write about tonight. I just didn't want to admit it to myself or to anyone else. I pigged out.

When Ken and I went to Spencer, I was starving. It felt like the front of my stomach was rubbing against my backbone. I should have planned ahead. I should have taken some sort of snack along with me. An apple, some rice cakes, even some carrot sticks would do it. But I hadn't taken anything and my hunger was gaining control over me. It didn't help when Ken went traipsing through the candy aisle. By the time we got to Menard's I couldn't take it anymore. I picked up a bunch of junk, cinnamon bears and bridge mix. And you know, a glorified lumber yard is the last place to look for healthy food. And I ate them. Well, not quite all of them, but a lot of them.

Apparently, my system is no longer used to this kind of crap. I woke up at about 10:30 with a stomach ache, a terrible thirst and I'm completely wired. I go to bed at 8:00 most nights. 4:30 is going to come around, and there will be hell to pay. Well, at least tomorrow is Friday. I can get through that. I'd sort of like to throw up right now, but I don't know if it's going to happen.

So, what have I done since I've been awake? I came downstairs and read for awhile, but then I decided I needed to have more soup handy for some quick meals. So what did I do? I made some chicken and rice soup. It's on the stove right now cooking. Am I weird or what?

Next time Ken and I are planning a late afternoon trip out of town, I'm definitely packing an apple at the very least.

Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Máxima Culpa...And for my penance?....