I lost weight and appetite the last few months, between flu and sinus infections. I felt good. People noticed. I didn�t think about food. My clothes were loose enough to be comfortable. After the illness, I had little appetite, giving up morning tea and breakfast for the unsettled tummy. But life slowly returns to normal.

I resume periodic alcohol consumption. I lift weights and build muscle. Eat out on payday. Get bored at work and have snacks. Now my fridge is full of tasty bits of leftovers, like olive tapenade, feta dip with sun dried tomatoes and pesto and veggie dip. Crackers and chips. And it�s just me, and a house full of things that taste good again, because on payday I bought groceries, too. It�s cold and I�m bored and broke, so I cook. Then eat. PMS lasted longer than usual; drugs wouldn�t dull the pain, and suddenly I�m eating more, blaming the dull ache that sometimes feels like hunger, but is more likely nervousness, boredom, worries and frustration.

The eating too much has been just enough of a habit in the past few weeks as to be scary. Doesn�t matter what it is, it�s the overfull feeling, the intense discomfort that brings guilt and depression and suspicions that maybe these pants were more loose two days ago. Last night after a small dinner and too much snacking, I felt nauseated and stuffed. Enough that I knew I could do something about it. But then I flipped over to PBS, where Alan Alda hosts that show about scientific discoveries, and the episode was all about weight loss.

After watching a few minutes worth of people with more serious mountains to climb, I had the sort of mental argument that I�m usually too bored to muster. The feeling passed, and I set my bike back up and rode for a good half hour while watching the rest of the show. When it ended, I was stretching and cooling down, when Lauren Hutton came on, hosting a show that followed several girls with eating disorders. Oy, the irony. It was upsetting. But exactly what was required in that moment. I feel duly chastened.

I�d rather be talking about the Oscar nominations. Creating similes to describe the cold spell we�re having. Lamenting the state of network broadcasting, when CBS is censoring ads from PETA and MoveOn, though they can pay the steep cost of Super Bowl adverts. The fiasco with Tony Blair and the BBC. The fact that a dead sperm whale in Taiwan exploded during transport to a research lab. But today I say I recognize and understand.

Well, whatever. Tomorrow, then.