Today I need to go running. I was supposed to go last night but 3 glasses of wine later and my inner fatty decided we would go to Felicia's instead and have more wine and pasta. Which brings me to our discussion: Alcohol is the fat bitches best friend.
Like most other toxic relationships- booze does not bring out the best in my heavy dark passenger. In fact, even one drink can make her stronger and take over the whole situation. It can happen quickly and yet is also a very subtle epic fail. Last night for example:
Glass number 1- I was relaxed, but OK. I should have stopped but as I reached for my bill, Fat bitch looked longingly at the waitress, who responded to my inner cry by bringing another round.
Glass number 2- I have on a solid buzz. People are still talking to me but they are all starting to just look like giant talking burritos.
Glass number 3- I come to and find myself at Felicia's Italian restaurant. Sauce on my face, more wine in my glass. The only thing my real self managed to do was blurt out "balsamic" for the salad dressing. At least I got one point in.
As the wine takes over- I go home, stuffed with pasta, and sit at watch Jersey Shore while eating gummy bears and drinking milk. That's right.......I'm almost 30.
So what does this teach us about my squatting fat bitch? First of all, neither of us is stupid. I'm well aware of wine lowering my inhibitions, getting more drunk when I have not eaten since noon. Drunk and hungry being a bad color on everyone, I could have ordered the "healthy options" on the menu. But I was no longer in control. When she takes over, there is no moderation. There is blind stuffing of myself. Lesson learned- the tubby bitch has no limits.
