When the wind blows every leaf from the neighborhood onto my lawn and my wool sweaters beg to be dry cleaned, I know it’s time. Time for winter. Time for the holiday season. The season for hats and hot chocolates. The season for skates and skis. And, God bless, the season for stress eating. This year, as soon as the hint of burning chimneys reach my nose, I find myself in the pantry looking for leftover Halloween candy. Rifling through the freezer for frozen pizza. And piling whipped cream over every freaking hot beverage known to man. I know I’m not an animal. I’m a human being. But something in me tells me it’s time to hibernate for the winter. Meaning it’s time to stress eat.
Stress eating does something miraculous for my sanity. Please don’t spoil it for me. Because, as long as I exercise here and there, I feel I can justify the expansion of my thighs a little longer.
Here’s a fun link to my favorite winter beverage on a stick.
Middle State said:
I do the same. When it’s warm and the possibility of big sweaters and layering diminishes, my appetite wanes.