Holiday Munchies

Oh man, I've been so worried about Christmas shopping, making desserts for Thanksgiving and all other forms holiday distractions that I totally forgot that I was bound to be eating like a Stage 4 stoner by the end of the week.

It always starts with Thanksgiving.  Even though I hate turkey, (and really hate turkey leftovers), somehow my stomach still begins is unauthorized regimen of expanding and contracting around mid-to-late November.  By the last week of the month its new routine becomes strictly expanding and will remain so until the new year's threshold has been crossed.

Adding a ham to the Thanksgiving mix this year has only worsened my piggyness.  Thankfully we finished off the leftover swine by this evening, but the damage has already been done.  The starter gun has sounded and I've been eating all day.  (In fact, I just literally devoured an entire granola bar in order to summon the strength to type that first paragraph and upload the brownie pic.  Phew!  I'm hungry again.)  I've especially been enjoying the barrel of leftover mash potatoes and the last dozen of the soft wheat rolls.  Oh yeah, and the white chocolate-drizzled brownies which have been perfectly cut to hypoglycemic-friendly sized squares.  Mmmmmm...

I'm not opposed to eating, over-eating or even going up a pants size once a year.  (That's what the storage container in the basement stuffed with two different size options of pants is for.  Wink wink.)  In any given non-holiday month, I still usually eat six times a day.  But, man, there's something about post-Thanksgiving that's turns me into Cookie Monster, Jughead from Archie's gang and one of those disgusting hot dog-eating contestants all rolled into one.

I had intentions of taking a hike today to get some fresh air and to have a reason to have worked up such an appetite.  But, the most athletic exertion of energy I managed to muster up today has been 1) standing upright long enough in the shower to wash my hair and 2) continuously hitting the refresh button on my keyboard until the Black Friday internet crashes lulled and then post-victoriously checking four more names off of my Christmas list.  All while in my slippers and without tasting one breath of fresh air.

My body hasn't been in a total state of recline today.  I've been checking up with my kingdom on Castleville with such regularity that I think I may have convinced myself that my peasants and all of their livestock may starve to death once I return to work on Monday.  I've finished reading half a book, two magazines and rediscovered the PS2 console that I sometimes forget I own if there are not children visiting to remind me.

So, now that I remember my body is going to be convinced it's infected with a tapeworm for the next month or so, I will allow myself to overeat a little, as long as I can also convince my legs to journey further than the mailbox (to check for more magazines.)  I predict three more pounds of mashed potatoes consumed by this weekend's end with hopefully at least one hike squeezed in between servings.

Then again, it is supposed to rain, so maybe I'll just walk from the parking lot to the movie theater and call it even.  Popcorn, no butter?