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Tag Archives: Medifast

Holiday Suicide; Death by eating

I like to eat.  Most people do.  There is this little birdy in my ear that tells me “more is better.”  It’s all sooooo good.

We like to entertain periodically, and live in a great neighborhood on a cul-de-sac.   This means there is no  through traffic and we see each other often.  In the summer there is happy hour on our front porch and in the winter there are periodic get-togethers indoors.  The “holidays” provide the excuse for several such events, and last weekend our home was the location of one.

The product of parents that actually remembered the great depression, I am one to never want for food or drink – especially when throwing a party.  The Ham is purchased (enough for an infantry platoon), bottles of wine, sparkling cider, soft drinks, beers, quiches, shrimp cocktails, cheese platters, relish plates, veggie dip, etc.  Cookies and brownies are baked under the caveat “we need to get all this stuff out of the cupboards” and we amass a pile of starch, fat, sugar, and alcohol that would impress a Second Harvest volunteer.  It never occurs to us that we have only invited 12 people, that this is not a dinner party, or that all of these guests would also bring dishes and bottles of their favorite whatever.

So now it is Tuesday.  The party was Saturday.  The last of the Ham was used last night to accent a dandy Alfredo I prepared for a late supper.  We topped that off with a couple of brownies and some Lindore Truffles.  Did I mention that it has been raining all week, so I haven’t been going on my usual 2 mile walk at lunch?

I hit the scale this morning (what was I thinking?) and was appalled.  Somehow I managed to gain 5 pounds in one week.  The Medifast is on order; I need to look up the tracking number pronto.  We were going to “get on the program” after the first of the year.  I hope I live that long.  At this rate I’m going to be shopping at “Big and Tall” before then, and I’m not that tall.  I think its Fresh Choice for lunch.

It’s only December 21.  Ten more inglorious days of debauchery left.  God help us all!

 

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