Gobble Bubble

Ah Thanksgiving.

A day off work, a day with family and friends, and a repast to consume (unnecessary) copious amounts of food.

Round One.

Salad, or salads as it were yesterday.

Round Two.

Turkey and cranberry sauce, roast potatoes, roast sweet potatoes with brown sugar caramelized on top, stuffing, green bean casserole, gravy, cauliflower and cheese.

Round Three

(same as round two)

Round Four

Pie.

Pumpkin pie, apple pie, banoffee.

So good and yet so bad!

I often wonder why we (I) insist on eating more than is necessary.  

At a certain point, your body no longer enjoys what you are eating and starts to repel what you are doing .Your waist line starts running away from you thus expanding. 

At least, that’s what happens to me. 

Sometimes I think I can feel my skin tightening.

My clothes begin to anger and I believe they tighten in an effort to try to constrain me from the harm I am inflicting on myself, as if to say “No, stop it, we can’t take it.”

Even the clothes on the picture of myself I doodled today, look menacing “Why can’t you fit me? You did when you put me on this morning. Three hours later, and we need to be replaced?”

Oh willpower, why do you abandon me when I need you so?

That fluffy, delicious cream all whipped and poised, enticing me, calling me “put me on your pie, you know you won’t be satisfied without my creamy peaks atop that sweet layer of pumpkin”. Naughty, naughty pie.

And that is why I am sick today.