An Apple a Day

and other meaningless observations.

Oh Kdunk, how our words resonate in the foothills of my mountain of plumpitude. I feel fat. well, not fat exactly, but I feel if my holiday eating had continued in the direction I had been directing it, I would have resembled a manatee (and a fat manatee at that).

This holiday season I went nuts, thanks in part to a fantastically cold winter and a snugly coutch, I squandered butter on mashed potatoes, extravagantly partook in alcoholic beverages, I ate chocolate cherry cordials shrugging them off with words like…

“It’s the holidays. As soon as they are over, I will stop eating this shit.”

The holidays are over and I am just beginning to stop eating this shit. I ate myself into such a stopper, that last Monday night was the first time I had had fruit in over a month. A FRUIT! I thought you were supposed to die if you didn’t eat your fruits. I knew it was bad, when I bit into the apple and had forgotten how good they were. I had so many candy cherries and gummy peaches, that I had forgotten what the taste of a real apple was.

I was appalled at my own behavior.

A grown man eating Snickers bars and parading about with a second helping of Tin Roof Sundae. I should have been ashamed, but I wasn’t [at the time]. Everybody was doing it. A scoop here, a nibble there, and before you knew it everyone was partaking in sinful delights like it was their last days on earth. A group mentality of more.

You have to look objectively at the whole mess and think, “it’s not so bad”, but then again, didn’t you eat that entire pumpkin pie by yourself?

For shame!

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