FEMA

I am an eating machine. For the past few days, I just can't seem to keep my mouth shut. And every time it is open, there is food going into it. I shudder to imagine how this is translating in pounds, and especially to the pooch of my stomach and the curvature of my ass. Not to mention my thighs.

I know I said I wanted to gain a few pounds, but at this rate, I'll look like a circus grade fat lady by May, which is really when I want to look as svelte as a superstar should. My friends would say I'm eating as much as a normal person should, but I haven't had a normal person diet since Mom was cooking my three squares a day-that's around 70 years in dog years. When I'm not eating, I'm starving and thinking about eating. And of course there's nothing in the house except Goldfish and potato chips. Those are lovely, but not filling. And of course not terribly healthy as a stand alone meal, which is what they've become.

How long before either my hunger or my laziness give up? I must say, I am looking forward to the impending visit to the fam where I will be fed whenever my heart desires leftovers. (which isn't very often, but beggars can't be choosers) When I return, I will have to drag out the dreaded scale and examine the damage, much like the President tours Florida after the hurricanes level as many trailer parks as possible. FEMA might have to be called in.