stress eating

Last night, I had a meal with Maternal Parent, before we were meant to see a film. I was reasonably well-controlled and sensible - small, vegetarian main course, small bowl of boiled rice. As best as you can do in those situations.

It started to snow, and by the time we left the restaurant, it was getting ridiculous. We decided to forego the film, and just drive home, as three more hours of snow that heavy would have rendered it impossible.

It was bloody impossible enough as it was. We nearly went off the road more than once, and I could barely see where the road was in relation to the verge/the car. In other words, absolutely terrifying.

We got home after an hour (usually, it takes about twenty-five minutes). Immediately, the wine was broken into, and the Ben & Jerry's came soon after. I consumed my body weight in Pinot Noir and Fossil Fuel, in bed with a hot water bottle, watching Sex and the City episodes in leggings, a hoodie and slipper socks. I henceforth deserve to have gained about 3lbs, particularly after restaurant food. Miraculously, haven't. The Gods of the Scales are feeling generous, it seems.




Today at work, one boss told me I was soon going to resemble the majorly anorexic woman who was the main story in one of those magazines that should be called Ultimate Tat! or something similar. My other boss then went 'no, she's not! She's got a fair bit o' meat on her!'

So, I look simultaneously anorexic and fat?
Was disgusted.