I'm Nancy...

I allow myself to be led blindly to food through my stressful thoughts. Last night I was mulling over the day's events which included a visit with one of my harsher critics. As though sleepwalking, I got up from my chair and opened the refrigerator. Then I snapped out of it. This was no dream. I realized what I was doing, but like a car rolling off a cliff, I couldn't stop myself. I weigh 220 lbs. Now all my critics can whisper and point and compare and sigh and declare "Why doesn't she take better care of herself?" Well, guess what? I don't. Deep down, secretly, I probably relish the thought that it drives you crazy that I look like crap. I'm kamikaze listening to my broken record life. I'm bitter. And I eat...