Christmas is a fucking shitty time for bulimics. Or a glorious, bountiful time, I suppose, depending on how you look at it... but it's been a bit of a horror story for me this year.

My throat is sore as hell.
My stomach hurts.
My cheeks are beginning to resemble small blimps.
I'm convinced I've gained ten thousand pounds.

Oh, bulimia, how I loathe thee. But I'd've loathed it more if I'd had to keep down those gargantuan binges.