The time is two-thirty in the morning and I am eating ice cream

Yeah, don't preach at me about health right now. I'm not in the mood. I am rather fiery, actually. It's a great time to be that too. Since it's the perfect time of day to be full of energy.

Who freaking calls somebody at one-thirty in the morning? Seriously. Especially when that person readily admits in the voicemail "...we don't really have a lot to say to each other right now."

I was all comfy after the thunderstorm. Reading and half asleep. Not really in the mood to answer the phone when it rang, but not really asleep either. Now? Oh I'm wiiiiiiiiiiiiiide awake. About fifteen or so minutes after my voicemail indicator went off, I called the person back and he conveniently did not answer his phone. How convenient! Haha! Because I have things to talk about now.

It's two-thirty, and I'm suddenly in the mood to gab. So, instead of calling my loved ones and waking them at two-thirty in the morning, I turn to my good old buddy, Mr. Breyer to console me. Some people have bourbon; I have Breyer's. Which is probably not something I need to admit on my blog.

You know, out of sight out of mind can be a dangerous philosophy. About people. Not ice cream.

Oh what the heck? Why change the subject now? I'll say it. I have a food problem. I am addicted to food. I use it to console myself. I actually feel better saying that because I don't think I've ever admitted that before. Like to people.

Not that you couldn't tell. I'm not exactly skinny. But I don't eat like this all the time either. Which is also hard to deal with, because people may think I eat like a heifer all the time. No. Just when I'm sad or not talking to God. Well, this time it's the former. I really don't feel like I've ever prayed as much in my life as I have the past week or so. I mean, like constantly. And the funnier thing is, if you think I am big now, I have actually lost weight. Seven years ago I weighed 295.

Yeah you saw right.

Not exactly ladylike and graceful is it? 295! What was I thinking? Actually, I think after that I started smoking and lost a bunch of weight. But when God healed me of that smoking addiction three years ago, I gained like 45 pounds after that. And I have lost again. And I have gained again. Pretty much remaining at the weight I am now. Which makes me want to, well, punch something.

Because I feel fat.

I say things like that as I eat my Breyer's. Ugh.

I am a sitcom waiting to happen. Or a cheesy teen drama. Or a stand-up comedy routine.

I need to let my brain shut off!