The cheesecake debacle...

I am rather fluffy at the moment.  It happens.  My weight goes up and down, according to how invested I am in looking good rather than feeling good.  After all, hormones are dialed down to simmer, addictions to fun things like tobacco and alcohol are in abeyance, food is my only comfort these days.  Not that I cannot moderate.  I do.  But, once in a while, it all goes to hell.  On Wednesday, the day before the holiday, I toodled over to Costco for one of those enormous (and cheap) cheesecakes.  I got the strawberry, my least favorite, figuring I would eat less of it at the feast the next day.  On the way home, it shot off the backseat and landed on its side, broke it all to hell (inside the container, nothing was lost).  Well, hell.  I would have to go back to get another one.  And this one, well I could donate it to the Alkathon, where folks don't care what the food looks like, no, not at all.  Except when I got it home, I opened it and had a nice fat slice.  Well, I could donate HALF of the cheesecake.  In the end, I got a really chichi lemon torte at Whole Foods, which was much more up the alley of the crowd that would be eating it, invested as they are in CUISINE.  And the cheesecake never left my fridge.  I overdosed the first day, cut big swaths with lots of whipped cream.  So, I whittled each slice down, though I was eating two or three slices a day, sprinkled with walnuts, too.  It totally disappeared after breakfast this Wednesday.  Man, I miss that cheesecake.  And even though it wasn't my fave, I got to like it just fine.  Am now fluffier, for sure.  And it was worth it.  Into each life, let a little (or a lot of) cheesecake fall.