Who knows what evil lurks in the heart of men? The Shadow may know that. But, who knows what calorie-laden sweets linger on the hips of mankind? The Blue Jean has that one covered.

As I’ve told you, I have not been careful with my food intake for, oh, about a month now. Last night, I firmly felt and saw the results. Oy.

I’ve known that I was gaining a little weight; but, I was using that old standby method of denial – elastic! And as we established just forEVER ago, Satan did, in fact, invent yoga pants. But, last night, I didn’t wear yoga pants. I wore my jeans. Well, most of me wore my jeans. There was some spillage over the top until everything got all stretched out. Muffin top. Yech.

I’ve earned it. And it’s not even the holidays yet; so, I can’t blame it on holiday eating! This is just plain, old emotional eating. Thankfully, I have been able to slow it down since I identified the emotions which started the whole thing. Now, I just have to deal with the aftermath, which, if I’m not careful, could lead from Depression Eating straight into Guilt Gorging. Neither of these activities or mental locations  appeared in The Princess Bride; however, I’m fairly certain that if the book had been written by a woman, there would have been no Fire Swamp, but rather the Gorge of Nervous Snacking. And there would not have been large rats. There would have been huge trees of Little Debbie cakes, potato chip flowers and a river of melted Phish Food. (I’ll let you enjoy that calorie festival vision for just a second.)

I told myself that I hadn’t done too much damage – just a pound or two; but, my jeans showed that as a lie I’ve been selling myself with a side of lycra. But, just as Wonder Woman’s golden lasso will reveal any falsehood, so will the waistband of my blue jeans. And, honey, did those show my deception last night! Thankfully, as I’ve said, I’ve already been able to slow the process to a near halt and I’ll reverse it because I know that I can and, to be in the kind of physical condition I want to be, I must.

As I’ve known all along (but need to be reminded occasionally apparently) self lies are the most dangerous. Thankfully, I have a couple of sets of lie detectors in my closet.