It was a rough day. Too busy, too many babies and kids to tend to, too many tasks to get done, too many disappointments. Finally, at around 8 p.m. everyone was gone.

I made a steak sandwich for a late dinner. I used healthy low cal multigrain bread and put lots of nice veggies on my sandwich. I opened a bag of ridged potato chips, which I enjoy with a beef sandwich. Yes, they are fattening, but after a day like today I decided I deserved them. To my great disappointment, the large handful of chips I dropped onto my plate were orange. Oh, Man - barbeque. I like good old fashioned plain ridged potato chips with salt. Lightly salted is ok too. But barbeque, Yuck! Fake flavor, fake color - Yuck!!

This is how I know I have an eating disorder. I hate barbeque potatoe chips. I ate them anyway!

It wasn't the flavor, the fake flavor is offensive. But there's something about eating those ridges. I crunch away at each ridge, starting at one side of the chip and chipping away along a single ridge with my front teeth until I reach the opposite side, then I return to the starting side of the chip. It's kind of like an old fashion typewriter - click letters until you reach the edge of the page and then hit return.

It was not about the taste, but I did get satisfaction out of the chunching ritual. I'm thinking I'd be a lot slimmer if, instead of eating when I'm angry, I just punched somebody.

Ok, maybe not the best plan. I'll keep thinking about it.

I know I was angry by the time I finally had dinner.