Dig me out, please

What the hell does a boatload of snow have anything to do with gastric bypass surgery and bulimia? Ah, you had to ask.

I have a million pounds of snow to shovel today. And I have the stomach the size of an egg. The quandary: I have to get in enough food to replenish the energy I'm going to exert. My friends, that amount of food is a lot for my re-engineered innards and for my eating disordered brain.

I feel as though I should start eating now, jump start the calories flying out of my furnace and then keep it stoked through out the day. But...I'm afraid that if I start eating, I won't stop. If I don't stop, I'll purge. If I purge, I eff up a nearly a month of puke-free living.

I suppose I should just bite the bullet (or bagel) and take care of myself. Duh. I do that everyday. For whatever reason, my brain is wonky this morning. My perception is skewed. My fear is vicious.

Ok. Stop it. It's just flippin' snow. A stupid shovel. One meal out of many.

Snow sucks. ED sucks more. Both do their damnedest to dump on my driveway.

UPDATE OF JOY!

I ate a delicious breakfast of kashi oatmeal, blueberries and cottage cheese and then I went out to tackle the snow. I called my mom quick to whine. When I walked back in the house an hour later, there were 7 missed called from her telling me to call right away. I did. My dad was on his way to the rescue. He showed up a bit later with a snowblower. My driveway is free. My back is saved. And my dad loves me.