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Maybe it's the wheat, maybe it's the gluten, maybe it's the carbs, possibly the portion, maybe the sodium, could be the fat

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Last night sucked. Yesterday, I made a heaping portion of Angel Hair Pasta with store-bought Ragu Alfredo sauce and a bunch of chopped store-bought sliced honey ham and made it into a giant happy vat of lunch—all because I really wanted to eat noodles with a mug full of disposable wooden chopsticks that remind me of growing up in Hawaii.

Last night sucked. Yesterday, I made a heaping portion of Angel Hair Pasta with store-bought Ragu Alfredo sauce and a bunch of chopped store-bought sliced honey ham and made it into a giant happy vat of lunch—all because I really wanted to eat noodles with a mug full of disposable wooden chopsticks that remind me of growing up in Hawaii.

OK, not the entire mug, just a single pair—which ended up being two pair by the end of the day. Yes, I cooked the entire box of Angel Hair pasta and ended up eating the entire box of pasta by the end of the day. Gah!

That's why I don't keep food in at the moment. But, by night, I was unhappy.

And, while I slept deeply and for a long time, whenever I remember waking up, I remember feeling and thinking, deep in my reptile brain, "I think maybe my body is pissed off about all the wheat (and gluten) in that pasta bomb so maybe don't ever do that again, and maybe follow what your healthy friends are saying and stop with the bowls of rice, oats, grits—and especially pasta and bread—that you go to when you feel nostalgic about yesterday (when all your troubles feel miles away)."

Yes, my reptile brain is, indeed, both chatty and rather erudite).  I address all of this in today's podcast, ChrisCast Episode 6: Summer Solstice ASMR Girl Ramble Fiesta Par Excellence.