I just ate off the big plate.

[Guest guest]

That's right.

Better yet, I just ate pancakes. Off a big plate, not a salad plate.

And I made the pancakes with Bisquick and eggs, and I didn't " make " myself

substitute

flaxseed or whole wheat flour or oat bran to be healthier.

And I thought about making some homemade turkey sausage to go with them, because

we all know that if you don't eat protein for breakfast, the fires of hell will

come down

around you by 10 am, and the earth will stop spinning, and you will pass out

dead from

your gluttonous carb-attack.

But I didn't want protein. It's the day after Halloween, and it's cold and

rainy, and

everyone seems to have kids but me, and I wanted some good old-fashioned comfort

food. I wanted pancakes.

And they were ridiculously fluffy.

And ridiculously tasty. Especially since I actually put syrup on them.

And when I put three side by side on a dinner-sized plate, they almost filled

it. And

when I had finished 2.5 of them--I realized they actually didn't taste as good

anymore.

How wonderful is that? Our bodies actually change how we perceive taste when

we've had

enough? So, perhaps strangely, I started pulling apart the last half a pancake,

playing

with my food, like a kid. And it was fun! And then I tossed it.

And I am perfectly happy, and not overfull. And there is a big plate of

pancakes on the

counter, awaiting my fiance, and I have no need to chow through them at all.

I've had these victories throughout IE, but today I think I needed one. I spent

the first half

of this week back into calorie-police mode, and feeling badly about my body.

This

sneaks up on me over and over, and I'm trusting it will lessen over time.

Sometimes I

realize I haven't fully legalized--that I still restrict or make rules in the

name of

" nutrition " . But I'm getting much better.

And I ate off the big plate.

And I ate pancakes.

So hello, November!

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