Get Into My Belly!
This next post will cover an embarrassing weekend moment, which I don't know for sure if I want to commit it to writing. But for the sake of entertaining you, I will continue.As I'm sure that most of you are aware, I was trained since a very young age to finish everything on my plate when given food during a meal. This has, over the years, developed into my ability to eat a fairly large amount of food in one sitting or to continue eating even when I'm full. And of course, there's always room for dessert. On a number of occasions, I have eaten to the point where I was really really full and wanted to immediately fall asleep or sit on a comfy seat or lie down, and I'd swear each of those times that I'd learn to use some self-restraint and not eat so darn much next time. However, despite occasionally eating too much, I have never binged to the point of feeling more than just a little bit uncomfortable while harboring the newly acquired food baby in my stomach.
That is, until last Sunday.
I went to a dinner party at a friends house and the combined culinary efforts of three different people resulted in a fabulous meal of roast chicken and stuffing, two kinds of potatoes, loads of veggies... I can't begin to do this meal justice. Anyway, we all dug in and after the first round of food, there were still TONS of leftovers so I went for seconds. This in and of itself wasn't so bad. By the time I finished my second helping, I was at the point where I was full, but not any more so than any other time I'd eaten a little bit too much (was I uncomfortably full at this point? I couldn't really say, since I ate WAY to quickly and I'm assuming my stomach hadn't had enough time to tell my brain that there were no vacancies). It was the dessert that ultimately brought about my downfall. Apple and rhubarb crumble with ice cream. Bad idea. My stomach said no, my brain said YES YES YES! And as it almost always is with dessert, my stomach lost the battle and I gave into the greedy gluttonous voice in my head.
What happended afterward, I can try to blame it on the fact that maybe I had something weird for dinner the night before, or maybe it was the milk I drank earlier that day that was a day past its expiration date but still passed the smell/taste test, or that maybe I was having sympathy pains for Eva who had just had a bout with stomach flu. But what probably happened was that I ate too much. Shame on me.
It all happend quickly. I suddenly got a splitting headache and broke out in a cold sweat. I felt nauseated and my stomach hurt. I had to excuse myself from the dinner party and managed to stumble home (it only takes about 5 minutes to walk from my friend's back to my place, but it felt like 10 miles), climb up the three flights of stairs to my flat, and managed to spend the next hour or so having a date with el baño. Not my best moment. My stomach still felt a little funny when I woke up Monday morning. Thank God it was a holiday.
So what did I learn from being bulimic for an evening? Eat less, eat slowly, and listen to your stomach because your brain had no capacity for self-control. Got it.
P.S. I finally figured out how to put titles on each blog entry through my blogger template. Hooray!
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