Bridal Shower Sugar Coma

I was dead certain that the outline around the ice cream cone here  was twinkling, that’s how stoned I am on sugar.

OYEESH.  So Amber’s Adopted-Mom brought these peanut butter squares to Amber’s bridal shower on the weekend.  I just ate the last one.  Since Saturday I’ve probably ingested maybe 6?  Okay it was closer to 8.  They were too sweet for Rissa and David, so the one person in the house who shouldn’t have a lot of sugar ate them instead.  From what I gathered, the ingredients are:  possibly an entire jar of peanut butter, 2 cups of sugar and rolled oats.  I think.  I’m not sure, because I might actually be in a sugar coma right now and this is all a dream.   I’m all dopey and muzzy headed on account of the fact that my hypoglycemic bloodstream is full to the brim with all the simple carbohydrates that are in my system.  If David were home right now, he’d totally be getting lucky.  As it is, the shag rug in our study is looking like a really good place to have an impromptu nap. 

I hosted the shower and people were kind enough to bring along some food so that I didn’t have to get completely psychotic with food prep.   There ended up being A LOT of food.  REALLY A LOT.  Thank God I didn’t get a chance to make the egg salad sandwiches with the crusts cut off!  Plates of appetizers and treats were barely touched during the shower.  There were piles of leftovers.  And of course no one took anything home – except Brandy, because I strong-armed her into it.  See, she brought this amazing cheesy dip that  I knew that I would end up eating all by myself,  because Rissa and David wouldn’t like it, and though this dip was astonishingly, ‘make-a-girl-salivate’ good, my arteries are re-clogging at the mere mention of it.  And now my fridge is full of bridal shower food.  Most of which I shouldn’t eat, but it’s in the fridge, just looking at me and beckoning with its little food fingers, showing a little food shoulder and making little food kissy noises at me.  I’m thinking this is probably a dream.  Plates of Nanaimo bars don’t say “Take me.  Just take me!  You know you want me, come on you dirty little food whore, just take me!” do they?

When I was little I could eat almost anything and my body didn’t even blink.   Cookies, cakes, breads, chips, pop – bring it on!  And now, I kind of want to hurl a bit because the peanut butter square is warring with the glass of soy milk that I drank to wash it down.  I’m hosting a Stag and Doe in a couple weeks.  I’d just better make sure that someone else takes those food leftovers with them.  I will avert my eyes, they can pack food into bags and take it all to their houses and they can war with food guilt, nausea and not getting anything done because they’re high on sugar.

And I?  I am going to take a couple of Tums and NOT go make myself throw up, even though I know it would make me feel better.   See that?  Common sense right there.  Long after the fact, but I do still have it.  If I could just get it to come to the surface a little quicker when food addictions abound that’d be ever so helpful!