Hoo boy, I know I wanted to get to the bottom of this whole emotional eating thing, but this is stretching things a little.

I'm hanging on by the proverbial fingertips, doing everything I can not to walk across the street to the store and buy every pack of Doritos on their shelves.

The subtitle says I'm not going to be bossed around by a cookie, nor will I be commandeered by an upstart Mexican snack food.

I'm a double Taurus (rising and sun signs). For anyone who has the slightest inkling about astrology, you will not be at all surprised that I'm fighting a weight problem or that I eat to calm myself. Right now, I'm between client cheques. A long way between client cheques. And the rent is due tomorrow.

For a double Taurus, this is akin to the sky falling on your head. And all I want to do is eat the problem into submission.

So says my lizard brain, anyway. The, albeit tiny, logical part of my brain reminds me that food will not help me pay the rent, in fact eating my body weight in corn chips will only serve to make me feel even more miserable. But 30-odd years of snacking when I'm down is hard to resist.

I did all the right things. I went for a walk, I distracted myself with other things, like house keeping and reading. I even made a pot of the ugliest fucking soup you've ever seen in all your born days (but it's bloody delicious and I'll post the recipe separately). But the stress nibbled at me and the snacky goodness called me.

I resisted. I resisted their call. I'm fighting to let that logical bit of my brain win out over my lizard brain, or my Dorito brain perhaps. Instead of soothing myself with their cheesy evil, I spoke to my boy about my stress and spoke kindly to myself. The sky is not falling. There is a way to pay the rent and we won't be thrown out onto the street to live in a refrigerator box in a garden somewhere.

The battle was won. But the war continues.