When I woke up this morning I had an intense craving for ice cream. Vanilla. I can't remember the last time I afforded myself some ice cream. I wondered if I even had any in the house. I went of search of it, and found it in the freezer from Christmas. It had a little freezer burn but I needed it. I had three huge over-lapping tablespoons full. Then I helped myself to some Miralaxed coffee.
I'm not a stress eater, in fact I go the opposite way. I've actually lost 20 lbs. in stressing over my foot and weaning off as many of my preventative migraine drugs as possible. And not a lick of exercising in there with this darned foot.
Not that I don't have stress. Usually when my one brother calls it's because he's A) scared; B) needs money, or C) both. Seeing dysfunctional siblings' names pop up on the caller ID makes us C R I N G E. So I go to bed instead of eating, which is a better thing. Remember how many times I've said, "it's so much safer in bed?" Yesterday was one of those phone call days that made me not want to eat, maybe that's why I needed the sweet ice cream today.
Tomorrow I have to go for a headshot of myself. Hysterical! I'm headed to a conference in May where I will be selling my books (self-publishing means I have to self-market), and Buffalo Barbie insists I have headshots done in case I want a poster of myself or need to submit a headshot (which I do). This is getting a bit much. She knows me well though, and knows I don't feel very comfortable doing it. So she said I should have "props" to make the pic fun and less serious.
So you wait, you'll see the results soon. I hope the photographer takes his medications in the morning.