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I felt famished.
I’d skipped breakfast. Work had been so hectic; I had forgotten to eat lunch. By the time I got in the car for the forty-five minute commute home, I was starving. Too hungry to think about cooking, I picked up a couple of take-out pizzas and some bread sticks.
Oh… the rich smells that filled the car: warm bread, cheese, garlic, mmmm. I tore open the bag that held the greasy, delicious bread sticks and shoved one into my mouth, swallowing it so fast that I barely tasted it. Minutes after pulling into the driveway, I sat down with my family and ate slice after slice of pizza. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry anymore; I felt sick and full of regret for having overeaten.
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