Hard day at work, husband out of town, dogs bouncing off the ceiling, cat being a dick.
You know, the typical stuff.
While I have been almost boastful of my resistance to eating my emotions lately, I folded like a seven-two-offsuit hand of Texas Hold ‘Em last night.
I totally grabbed a spoon and went face first into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Boston Cream Pie ice cream.
One bazillion calories later, I was still stressed. But damn. That was some very good ice cream.