Fio's said it before and she 'll say it again. There's nothing like busting thirty-some miles down the road to Austin to rev up her writing brain. She actually pulled off to the side a couple of times, both ways, to record her thoughts--well, actually, one of those times, she had the fortune to get caught at a red light.
On the way down, Fiorella thought about Trump and the way that every time it seeems like she's run dry of blog topics, he comes through with something dumb, mean, or obscene that she can comment on. She also thought about how FB responders, by doing such things as mistaking the Declaration of Independence for an anti-Trump rally call, reveal their low IQs and educational levels.
On the way back, Fio reflected about over-eating, probably because she had just dined on chocolate chip cookies with Friend Evelyn at Starbucks and a hamburger with Friend Paula at Dan's. The spices were still on her tongue and the warmth was still in her digestive tract, but she knew that in an hour or so, the taste would turn bitter, her stomach would feel bloated, and she'd never want to eat again. Yeah, sure. Once Fio has downed a couple of chocolate chippers, her brain turns into a ravening beast and it's only the prospect of total embarrassment that stop her from going up to the counter and buying a box of them. Certain foods are like drugs to Fio, but if there's one thing she's has learned from "My 600-Pound Life," it's that over-eating is emtionally driven, and that instead of trying to smother one's emotions, one needs to investigate and understand them.
Besides, the more cookies she eats, the more GERD she'll have later on.
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