Confessions of a Spamaholic

Here we go again. I have inched down just a teensy little bit. Clothes are getting loose. Sweet Wii told me that I have the body of a 26 year old this morning. Have you ever heard her snicker? Cuz I think she did this morning. Actually, I think there wuz a whole group of wee wii snickering at me when she said my wii age is 26. One of them whispered , “in dog years.”


I am ruining all that progress as I type, though. I have been craving craving craving SPAM for a couple of days. I hit bottom tonight. The sodium will blow me up like Santy Claus the day after Christmas. This is my comfort food, though, and I need comfort. I had a very bad day at work. I am missing a dear friend. I want my Mommy! The snow is always bittersweet for me. I love to watch it because Mama loved it so much. She lives in the snowflakes now. I know the snowflakes are Mama kisses, and that makes me smile and cry at the same time.


So here I am with my SPAM. (Yes, Raul, it does congeal.) No reason to limit myself to SPAM, right? Threw in some Bavarian Kraut and a big ole chunk of onion. Might as well throw in a good cold beer, too! I feel sooo00 much better right now, but I am gonna be mighty unhappy in the morning when sweet wii turns into demon wii and throws bolts of lightening at me when I step up to be weighed.


Oh, fiddle dee dee! I can’t think about that right now. I’ll think about it tomorrow.