jillianduch
Last night, I ate my roommate's ice cream.

In my defense, it's been in the freezer for weeks, and I distinctly remember her saying that she didn't actually like ice cream. Rather she bought it for visiting family. Who are no longer here. So it's not really wrong, right?

Sigh.

I didn't eat because I was hungry. Or because I thought ice cream would be the perfect fuel for my body before climbing on the Stairmaster. I just wanted something sweet. And sugary. And let me tell you, it did taste great. (And I did go work out later.)

But that's rather besides the point. I've been thinking about emotional eating more lately, partially because I do it a lot without realizing it. Like, having an icky morning at work? Nothing a trip through the Taco Bell drive-thru or a call to the Chinese place (which is programmed into my cell phone) won't cure. And, it actually does. I actually feel more calm after taking a lunch break and indulging.

I guess it's just dawned on me that emotional eating doesn't have to be about strong emotions, but it can be about little, nagging emotions, too. I found some blog posts here and here about emotional eating, but for now I think I'm going to focus more on recognizing when it happens and trying to avoid it.

So, yeah, sorry about the ice cream, Crystal. If you want, I'll buy you more :)
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