Aack! I'm Becoming One of Those Women.

Oh God it's happened. I've become one of those women who relate to the "Cathy" comic strip. Egad.


I logged on tonight to talk about the perils of being an emotional eater since I've fallen off the wagon this past week and then it hit me. Aack! Brownies! Saddlebags! Egad! I'm a "Cathy"! Really? Is this what I've become? Three months of daily posts and I'm resorting to posts about overeating. That's all I can come up with? That's worth talking about? This blog has, as my husband would say, derailed.

Oh Cathy and her perils. First it's having to listen to that annoying co-worker while you work away in your shoulder padded blazer. Then it's complaining about your lack of a man or what's lacking in the man you do have. Then the shopping and blowing your loot on those shoes you had to have. You might as well seek some solace in some pie, Cath. What a life you crazy lady, you.

That's not me. I don't own any clothes with shoulder pads and I don't technically even have any co-workers. (Though I do joke that since I work from home, I have two less than par administrative assistants, Toby and Penny. I think opposable thumbs would really increase their job performance.) I have a man and he doesn't wear sweaters with the collar poking outside like her animated man does, so I don't have much to complain about there. I don't feel guilty about shopping and I doubt the sensible work pumps she blew her loot on are anything I would ever buy. But drowning your sorrows in strawberry rhubarb...aack! Got me!

I've already embarrassed myself enough in one post by not only writing about Cathy, but by also comparing myself to her. In a few years I'll probably be remarking on the hilarity of "Maxine" t-shirts and coffee mugs. I might even put that year's Maxine desk calendar from Hallmark on my Christmas list. Egad. Not even thirty yet and already resigning to the caricatures at Hallmark for my amusement.

Oh Maxine.

So I will spare you the story of my most recent falling off the wagon. INSTEAD I'll tell you a story about my friend Branden's sleep eating! We've been friends since high school, but it wasn't until this fall that I first learned of his after dark binge sessions. I don't think he even became aware of them until after getting married. His wife would wake up on his return to bed and ask what he'd been doing. He had no answer for her because he was still in a sleepy and confused stupor. She would find the jar of peanuts laying on the counter and cupboard doors open. Though his sleep eating incidents usually seem to involve peanuts, if I'm not mistaken (or just wanting this to be true) I believe there was a morning where he awoke with some chocolate mysteriously smudged around his mouth. (I could be fabricating this part of the story unknowingly. My memory just loves this picture of him awakening to a chocolate stained pillow.) When he met her parents for the first time and spent the night at their home, he happened to have an episode (is episode the correct medical term for this "condition"?). Her mom said there were all these wrappers laying next to the candy dish. Apparently Branden had raided the dish containing the miniature candy bars in the middle of the night. But what's even better is that he picked out just his favorite kind! Rather than indiscriminately grabbing at any of the offered varieties, he actually was able to select and pick out only the type he preferred. Isn't the brain fascinating? This story makes me want to become a neurologist. This story makes Branden a cheater on his P90X diet. I think it's his body craving all the deliciousness he's being denied and revolting against him. Asleep or not, it will not be denied it's peanuts.

When searching for a good pic of Cathy to post I came across Tina Fey, as Liz Lemon, doing her Cathy impression.


I really hope I'm not becoming like Liz either. She's funny to watch, but the audience is always laughing at her...not with her. Her flaws are not endearing, but rather ammunition with which to make fun of her. I do not want to be a Cathy OR a Liz.

Here's Andy Samberg doing an even better impression of Cathy.