I've been through a funky faze that lasted several weeks, that I just sorta came out of about a week and a half ago. A bunch of little things hit one right after another and I didn't have time to move past each one before another hit.     

I'm pretty sure that I had 3 separate instances of emotional eating.  Not to huge, but any is too much.   

Today Mike and I received another blow.   Literally.   

Let me expain.  About 3 weeks ago the transmission went out on our van.  My parents loaned me my mother's car to get around in while we found someone who could fix the van for less than $2,000.   Today, in MY MOTHER'S CAR, we got plowed in the side.    

Let me tell ya, not only was it a harsh physical blow, it was an emotional one.  Why us?  Why when we were driving my mother's car?  Why? Why? Why?  etc and so on.   

But here's the victory:  I was so thankful that Mike wasn't hurt (beyond a coffee burn on his knee) that I didn't even think of food. I realized in that instant that life is so precious and that there is NOTHING that can't be concured as long as we're together.   

And honestly, since our van as no transmission and mom's car is, well, in a little rumpled heap, I couldn't go get any chips now anyway, right?