I felt a strange and pathetic sense of mourning the other day. I was feeling stressed about things so went pacing the aisles at Marks & Spencer, looking for the Perfect Thing to eat. I know I've written about this desperate feeling before. Picking up cheeses and cakes and putting them down again; flipping through the chocolate bars like old vinyl.
I ended up stomping home empty-handed and annoyed, realising there was nothing there that would actually make me feel good or change anything. I think this is what I was trying to get at with that Zombie Eating entry about the hot fudge sundae. Sometimes I miss that feeling of oblivion and escape and just not giving a shit about anything in the world as I stuffed down too much food. It's like a crappy old boyfriend that you once couldn't quit, then you finally sever the ties… then years later you see him down the street and realise the old magic is gone. You know it's for the best but you still feel a little sad that you don't have that source of thrills anymore.
Anyone else feel like that sometimes? Put me out of my misery here!
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I can't remember on which blog I read a great entry about the perils of spending more time blogging about being healthy than actually doing the healthy stuff. Like sitting on the couch writing about exercise while mice nibble at your dumbells. Was that your blog? Sorry for my scatty brain!
Either way, you got me thinking that I needed less talk and more action, hence I've been a bit quiet. More soup making and further attempts to restore my fitness to pre-New York levels. Meanwhile I've written a couple of new entries on my non-fat blog about the Halloween weekend. Woohoo!
Happy Voting Day, America! The world writhes in anticipation.