I'm fooded out. Too much food is the diagnosis. Spicy food. Rich food. Desserts loaded with whipped cream and sugar. Even the thought has me cringing. I may never cook the Big Feast again. Just tasting the progress of everything on the stove and in the oven sent me into food-overdose. Can't even look at the leftovers in the fridge.
The only solution is shopping, right? All that walking. All that standing in line, it'll get rid of the extras in my system, I hope. Did my best this weekend to stimulate the US economy, but I don't think the jiggle in my wiggle was affected. Sigh. Time for severe austerity in the kitchen.
I really do believe all that food affects my brain. I go into this semi-awake state where every thought is an effort. Maybe it's because all my creativity heads for the kitchen? Recipes are my favorite reading? Whatever it is, the brain has to get back in shape along with the derriere. Time to give it some exercise.
Only solution: WRITE!
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