So Here's To You Mrs. Robinson.

I was trying to get to sleep last night, but I couldn't help doing a little self-reflection. I don't like to admit this but I've had a mistress for more years than I can count. My mistress has always been there for me; to take care of my lusts; to sooth my heartaches; to prop me up when I'm feeling depressed. My mistress never says no to me. My mistress never has a headache. My mistress never leaves me wanting. Before you start throwing stones, let me explain. My mistress is food. I have had a torrid relationship with food ever since I can remember. Of course when your young and active, you can get away with this kind of affair. It is easy to hide. I think it started when I was in high school after breaking up with my girlfriend. My mom gave me a big bowl of ice cream. It was so good. So decadent. It really did help my emotions, it just distracted me for awhile. I think that is the root of the problem. When I'm sad or depressed, or upset, or bored, I look to food as my mistress. Well there it is. It's out in the open. Now that I've confessed, I guess I should start seeking some professional help. I wonder if Dr. Drew is available?