Too Much of Not Necessarily Good Things

Its 10am. I've been awake for a grand total of two hours. And so far I have eaten-

* half a tub of strawberry ice cream.
* a bowl of pasta and tuna.
* half a bar of toblerone.
* two apples, an orange and a kiwi fruit.
* a wedge of chocolate cake, with cream.
* a slice of left over pizza.
* two mugs of Shreddies.
* too many choclate digestives to count.

As my lovely Alec flatmate put it: "Just who on earth binge eats chocolate gateau ?"
Not me, gov'nor.

But is it any suprise I feel poorly? Not in the least- thats more than I eat most days; and today is still young.
I may have to brave the gym once again, if this whole binge eating thing carries on. Not the same gym, obviously enough, after the embarassment of last week- I feel I definitely get my best workout in bed; its simple maths- I started uni a size 12, I'm now an eight (and this isn't solely due to my penchant for buying shoes over food. Priorities, priorities..).
Theres a reason why people who aren't getting laid are fat- and I mean hugely fat people, like my step mother, who's currently at the size 28 level.
But, jokes aside, I'll more on her another time- she's something of a grandiose topic.

I'm also having trouble facing traipsing down to the launderette, which means I have no clean knickers, and am now faced with a dilemma. Which is the most slatternly activity; wearing clothes and leaving the flat without knickers, or staying indoors in pyjamas all day?
I think the former, as my newly limited wardrobe is not just limited to me having no clean knickers- I also have no clean jeans and it's windy out there.