by Lisa

Right about now, getting sleepy, seriously considering how to get myself to bed as nicely as possible, I need a snack.  Every night.  It starts with, “Did I eat supper?”

Sometimes, I forget.  I do love to eat, but if no one else needs to be fed, sometimes it slips.

So, right now, I can’t remember what supper was made of.  Something went into my face at supper time, but my body needs…something else.  I’m a little cranky, and little confused at not remembering what or if I ate, and a whole lot hungry.  Hungry, but too tired to do much.

Milk, chocolate, Hershey’s, because milk is just so gross without modification.  Cheese?  That requires spreading onto crackers, a real crumb hazard in bed.  Banana?  Such a commitment.

I used to have a sign on my bedside lamp: DO NOT FEED THE LISA (no matter how hungry she says she is or how sad she looks) AFTER NINE P.M.  I wrote it myself, because post-baby, the jeans fit, and then suddenly didn’t, again.  Jeans are expensive when you’re tall, if you didn’t know that.

Right about now, after thinking of what to eat, if I should eat, why I always want to eat right before bed, how it’s better to plan for these things in advance but never do and then end up crabby with myself…

Forget it.  I’m going to bed.