I’ve discovered that the freneticism of planning for and hosting a party totally kills my appetite. Apparently all my energy gets directed toward the planning and scurrying-about parts of my brain, leaving the parts dedicated to maintaining a full stomach barren. And then about halfway through the day, I’ll realize how little I’ve eaten—not because my brain registers any hunger, per se, but because it knows that the duties of hosting require that I not be passed out on the floor—and finally get myself some food.
This happened on both Saturday and Sunday. All of Saturday was spent cooking and prepping for the housewarming party the next day. (More on that later.) It was about 2 pm when it was brought to my attention by my brain that all I’d eaten that day was a clementine and some nibbles off of some sweet potato cakes that didn’t pass inspection. And then Sunday, the day of the party, I don’t think I ate a meal the whole day. It was probably the first day in a long time that I ingested fewer than the the recommended daily allowance of calories. It’s possible that glass of Bailey’s I had at the end of the day put me over the top.
Anyway, I think I’ve stumbled on a great new weight loss plan: just keep throwing parties. Or maybe take it one step further and become a professional party planner. But only for half the year. The other half I’d return to my other job as a professional eater.