Bloated

 

I feel bloated. Wonder why?

Could it be the huge bowl of Golden Grahams, with three cups of coffee and a Krispy Kreme donut?

Or the four slices of pizza at lunch?

Maybe the three large chocolate chunk cookies at mid afternoon, chased by three of those “fun-size” Hershey’s chocolates. How is small “fun-size?” How is feeling bloated and fat a good thing?

Dinner was irrelevant. White rice. Duck sauce packets left over from Chinese take-out. Costco egg rolls and dumplings.

One day like that is not so bad. Living like that in a +50 body whose arthritic knees and surgically disrepaired ankle make cardiovascular exercise much more unpleasant than it was even 5 years ago – well that’s a recipe for a doughy belly and double chin.

I can’t tell if writing it down makes it any better.

I know when I get to the point where I feel so oversized, I, even I, with my appetite, have absolutely no desire for any post-white rice dessert – at that point, I need to change something up.

So hard, change. Maybe tomorrow. I’ve been saying that since Thanksgiving. Maybe tomorrow.

I feel like I am becoming a chocolate chunk cookie.