CONSUMER

Hi, guys.

I'm here to talk about something serious.

I'm not proud of this.

It's shameful.

It's sad.

It's horrible.

I've been labeled.

A consumer of what you ask?

Steroids? 

Alcohol? 

.

.

.

Puppies?

Oh, heavens no.

Food. 

Food is the culprit.

Now, now.

I know, I know.

Everyone eats.

You have to in order to survive.

But, you guys.

I inhale food.

I don't graze...

Take my time..

Enjoy.

I just shove it in.

Today I went to the grocery store to buy some Spaghetti-O's (I'm a 4-year-old, don't worry 'bout it) and decided I would try and take back first place (Haley & Lori) for the Greatest Aunt Award by buying some Swiss Rolls for the kids. Cause who doesn't love freakin' Swiss Rolls, right? 

NO ONE.

I decided I'd open the box.

You know

just to see them.

Make sure they looked okay to eat.

Then, my hand just fell into the box. 

I didn't realize what my hand was doing before it was too late and my mouth was covered in chocolate and lardy cream.

As I drove home with shame in my heart

I thought:

I didn't buy these for the kids, I subconsciously bought them for myself.

NO.

That's not okay.

NOT OKAY.

But, do you think that stopped me? 

Of course not.

When I got home, I tried to pawn off the rest of them to the kids,

but we all know I didn't.

I made them split a package and I hid the rest so no one would find them.

Not cause I think they would think less of me. 

No.

Because I didn't want anyone else to find them and eat them.

Then I proceeded to pull one more package out cause it felt like a good idea at the time.

I ate another duo.

WTH

If that doesn't make me feel morbidly obese, I don't know what would.

I feel so ashamed.

Now, back to the beginning of this post where I mentioned that I've been labeled a consumer.

Several times in the past month, I've been called this by a couple different people.

I'm always the first one to finish the meal, and when I say first, I mean, by the time everyone else is finishing putting food on their plate, mine is gone, into a black hole of despair, which I like to call my stomach.

With my wedding coming up, and a dress that barely fit to begin with riding on my mind, I'm getting into gear.

Now, I've said this a billion times before to many people around me, but now I'm going to blog about it.

Having it down in words for everyone to see is much more real than spoken words.

Send positive vibes this way, please! Gotta get a move on.

Less than 2 months!

WAAAAAH.