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Fear produces hunger

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Right after I'd signed off my PC and started to work out last night, every tornado siren in the city began blaring--loudly enough that I heard them through my headphones. A Hoosier born and bred, I'm pretty accustomed to the sirens--just not in JANUARY!--but I grabbed my purse and keys and hotfooted it down the stairwell to my neighbors' ground-floor apartment. And after several hours of hail and tornadic-force winds and the paralyzing terror that my daughter was across town at night class in one of the oldest buildings on campus and the storm was blocking cell signals, I came upstairs to find that I was starving. I mean, really, really, really hungry. I couldn't grab a poptart fast enough--all I wanted was basic, simple carbs, and noodles would have taken too long. So I guess true fear and anxiety--the adrenalin, maybe?--really make the body want fuel. Yet even as I gulped it down (no, I did NOT taste it) I felt a bit guilty both for eating junk food and for gulping it down so fast. Have to give myself a bit of forgiveness for that silly reaction.

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