Food

I went to the Greasy Spoon on Queen's Crescent this morning. I needed to get some air and I needed to eat. When I'm fearful of something, or stressed, I do not eat. I have no appetite, therefore I do not eat. It might be heaven on the girth but plays havoc with the guts.

When I'm feeling quite content, I stuff myself. This plays havoc on the girth and the guts.

Billie is like me. Her life is so stressful, she's become wafer thin.

I tell her to eat with her child. She can't even do this.

I force myself to eat with mine.

Fish pie from the freezer last night. Same sized portions. Breakfast is too early for me but I bought myself some muesli this morning.

My son picks the menu when I'm feeling like this. He wants tortilla tonight. "I thought you didn't like it," I said, balking at the hour it takes to make. "I do now," he says.

I bought some eggs and some spuds at the market.

Thank heaven, for little boys la la laaaaa