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Date published: 2/18/2006
ST. PAUL, Minn.--That big low- I realize this column is Not About Me, but if Washington has a half-billion dollars to pay researchers to watch post-menopausal women eat Little Debbie Snack Cakes, then why can't someone look up my nose and tell me what is going on? I am in my extremely late 50s and am not in a mood to dawdle. We are talking about a feeling of congestion and pressure and frequent sinus headaches, even though I take so much antihistamine that I talk in my sleep. I am married to an insomniac, that's how I know. She says I talk about technology stocks and seem to know my stuff. I also eat in my sleep. I was not intending to go public with this, but after the low-fat headlines, maybe it's time. I woke up one morning and found an empty quart carton of butter brickle ice cream in the bed and brickle stains on my pajamas, and I realized that I must seek help. Also that there might be a book deal here. Sometimes it is water chestnuts. Sometimes frozen waffles. Chicken nuggets. Pistachios. The list goes on and on. Pimentos. Anchovies. And once I ate a dozen White Castle double cheeseburgers. The empty cartons were under my pillow in the morning, the car keys lay on the floor with
1. Be respectful. No personal attacks.
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