Since it appears I won't or can't improve my

behavior, I could try excusing it. There are excuses lurking in the corners of my mind, familiar from frequent contact. I was carefully taught by word and deed to eat heartily and often. No one expects me to succeed, and few will recognize if I have.

Yeah, I could continue wallowing in that mire, which I do without thought or effort. But, damn it, that feels awful, the representation that I can't do better.

Spent much of last week laying around the house, in bed, on the sofa, or at the computer, doing little or nothing because I'd come down with some ghastly disease of stuffy nose, cough, headache and general malaise. Part of feeling poorly in my early experiences was eating, eating everything, lots of it and frequently. Not that this habit helped anything; I was still feeling lousy, perhaps worse because my stomach was brought into the mix.

If there was a pill to cure overeating, I'd sure as hell take it. But such thing does not exist. There's no pill to cure alcohol-dependency, but I stopped drinking. As others have said, we don't have to drink, but we have to eat. True; but how much and what must we eat?

It seems I can do better with food when I maintain better levels of physical activity; at least the activity can counteract to some extent the food. AND when one's exerting herself physically, it's somewhat appealing to reduce the mass of food to be counteracted.

Well, enough of this navel gazing. While I mostly did nothing, I did keep reading The Name of the Rose, or I should say reading at. Still haven't finished it and book club is tomorrow night. 's OK, I'll finish it whether tonight or later. There's a lot more 14th century history and vernacular in it than I care about, but I am interested in the solution to the mysteries and crimes. It's a challenge to read because it's so detailed and contains so many references foreign (literally) to me, but it has confirmed my feelings about the old BOMFOG of religion. I have no doubt that I'd be labeled heretical, even today by some folk. So be it; religiosity has no appeal to me even though I feel I have a HP.

One of the benefits of living to be 50-15 is to be able to say what you mean, what you think and how you feel, and largely not care what others think. I say largely because there are folk whose opinions matter to me; we may not agree, but I am interested in what they think. Thank God there are people about whom I care and who care about me.