Potato Chips Anonymous

shallow pond

Ever feel like you’re 1 shallow pond short of a life?

I have GOT to stop eating potato chips.  

What is it about the crunchy, salty, taste-bud tingling chemical goodness that has me going back for more?

Will I ever stop babbling and go to sleep?

I have to branch out, turn over a new leaf, build a bridge and force water under it.  Something else besides continuing to reach for the cylinder of feel-good sour cream crispies.  

I’m not talking about the fried kind saturated with grease.  I might as well hammer nails into my stomach as to eat those instead of the pin pricking lead weight that now inhabits my stomach.  I’m talking about the baked kind in the stackable cylinders.

Is it possible to become addicted to potato chips?  Where is a Potato Chips Anonymous support group when you need one? 

As I’m prone to do when it’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep, I look stuff up.  I found an article on why potato chips are so addictive:


Never would I have believed someone could come up with a term like “recreational over-eating.”  Compulsive, maybe.  I guess that’s the same as irritatingly obsessive.  But recreational?  

Apparently, rats become addicted to potato chips, too.

“By the looks of it, potato chips stimulate the reward, addiction, food intake, sleep, activity and motion centers in the brains of the rats in a way different from that of the standard chow.”

I’ve been called a rat before–among other non-complimentary names–so I’m sure it applied to me, too.  Just as people with an alcohol problem can’t have their favorite bubbly at home,  I’m going to have to come to grips with the fact that I can’t have potato stacks anywhere near my body.

What particular brand of poison shores you up when you’re bogged down with a pond full of stress in the marshlands of life?