I think I overate. No, I KNOW I overate. It’s 1:23am, the day after my birthday and I can’t sleep because I feel so full and bloated.
It all started 3 days ago when F and the girls baked me a chocolate cake with raspberry filling and chocolate frosting. Deeeee-lish. I’ve been eating chocolate cake all week.
Yesterday, on my actual birthday, J brought over a slice of chocolate spoon cake and a lemon cheesecake bar. How can I pass those up?
And for my birthday dinner, in addition to appetizers and a bottle of pinot, F and I both had gourmet buffalo burgers so massive that I swear that together, we ate a baby buffalo.
And now I can’t sleep. I shouldn’t complain. It was a splendid birthday, and I LOVE to eat. But it might be time to realize that I can no longer eat like I did 5 years ago. Damn. The 30’s are a bitch.