It's all my mom's fault

Last week I broke a tooth -- or broke off a filling that was on the tooth, I'm not quite sure which -- and it's all my mom's fault.

I broke the tooth when I was chewing on ice.

I was chewing on ice because I'm anemic.

I'm anemic because I take Nexium, which inhibits iron absorption.

I take Nexium for esophagus-searing acid reflux. Seriously, I'd give up the internet before I gave up my Nexium.

I get my esophagus-searing acid reflux from my mother. Not that she gives me heartburn. I mean that her genes cursed my esophagus. My brother's too.

And that is why it's my mother's fault that I broke my tooth.

Unless you want to argue it's bad teeth. Those are my dad's fault.

Urrrrrgh!

I wish I was one of those people who responds to stress by not eating. Unfortunately, I am exactly the opposite. There is something instantly soothing about a Hershey's with almonds, something physically therapeutic about McDonald's french fries.

Over the past two months, I had made some good strides in cleaning up my diet and detoxing my body of all the junk I'd been feeding it. I guess old habits die hard because in the last 10 days, I've been self-medicating with prescriptions written by Burger King, Wendy and the Dairy Queen.

I've even been hitting the hard stuff -- Diet Coke -- despite the fact that I've given it up for Lent (and had quit drinking it all together about a month before Ash Wednesday).

And you know what? I feel like crap.

I'm not sleeping well. The eczema on my hands has returned. For the past six hours, my stomach has been sour and I've been burping up the ghost of rotten eggs.

Guess that's what I get for a dinner of Frosted Mini Wheats with a moose tracks ice cream chaser. The only reason I don't have searing heartburn on top of it is that little miracle called Nexium. (Thank you, God, for the inventors of Nexium. Seriously.)

Ok, body, I get it. You don't like the junk I've been feeding you. I promise, tomorrow (guess that's today already) you're getting water and lots of veggies. And, truth be told, a couple of margaritas out with the girls in the evening. I'll even take you for a walk, or a spin on the Wii Fit if it's raining.

Just knock off the egg burps, please.