Feed Me, I'm Bored.

You hear a lot about emotional eaters. You know, the people who swallow their feelings of sorrow, or inadequacy, or rage, or whatever with a Big Mac and fries. In fact, I believe that there is a tacit implication that every fat person on earth eats their feelings. Why else would they possibly be fat? For some people, it's an accurate assumption. Some people have serious issues coping with, well, issues. I've watched myself closely and I can honestly say I am not an emotional eater. In fact, intense emotion completely kills my appetite. What I am may be much more insidious. I eat out of boredom. I find this a lot harder to a)identify and b)combat. The difficulty identifying this issue comes in that it is inconsistent. I don't always graze. I don't always overeat. I don't always even eat consistently. So how did I figure myself out? I'm on doctor's orders to do as little as possible. On Wednesday I underwent a very minor surgical procedure. The stitches I received meant that I was put on biological restriction at work, meaning they sent me home. I've been bored out of my mind and I found myself finishing an entire canister of mixed nuts. I couldn't bring myself to put them down. Being on Vicodin didn't particularly strengthen my resolve to put the damn nuts down. In fact I remember reaching for them and trying to talk myself out of it, telling me I wasn't hungry, I had just put them away, and I didn't need them. I ate them anyway. It wasn't until this morning when I was rattling aimlessly around my living room and peeked in my fridge for the third time (thank goodness I don't keep a steady supply of snacks) that I realized I was only looking for something to eat out of a total lack of anything to do. Having spent the past few days sleeping pretty much all day I didn't want to lie in bed and read. My doctor advised against serious exercise for at least a week...plus I'm scared of pulling my stitches or sweating in them. I was pretty much reduced to pacing my living room. And since I didn't particularly think narcotics and kitchens mix, I haven't made anything more strenuous than a sandwich since Wednesday.  I can't help but think that this isn't helping my weight loss cause. Of course, I don't keep unhealthy things, so I'm mindlessly munching on things like peaches and mixed nuts. There are many worse things that I could be eating, but I guess I'm more concerned about not exercising. I'm so inert without it. I really don't do much. But then again, what can I do? I'm under very specific instructions. I'm pretty much tired all day anyway, even without the drugs, which I now only take when I absolutely feel the need of them. I just feel like such a lump lying in bed all day.