Confessions of a serial eater

Tonight I made and ate an entire package of instant mashed potatoes. The package says serves 4 but we all know that really means like 2 1/2. But I ate it all. Every bite. I worked a long day and was looking for a warm and easy fix to my hunger pains. BAM! Instant potatoes. And these are not Army issued freeze packed nasty mush. These are garlic with herb and butter creamy yummieness. And I gorged myself. If I were in the movie Seven, I would be gluttony. And now I feel sick. I can feel my stomach expanding. It is going to be a long night. But I couldn't help myself. I love potatoes. There are my favorite food. Which my Irish friends think is appalling. But I love them.
Which brings me to another point, I eat Beef Jerky like some people eat chocolate. I will buy one of those large family packs and eat the whole thing. I can leave cookies, cake, candy, brownies, chips, and other junk food in their perspective spots, until they rot. Really. Not a problem. But Beef Jerky, look out. I am dehydrated in 5 minutes. I love beef jerky. Not turkey jerky, not teriyaki, not pepperoni sticks, not Slim Jims. But real beef jerky.
And the really sad thing is (yes even sadder than the above two paragraphs) is that even with as much pain as I am in right now, if you handed me a bag of good jerky, it would be gone in less than 10 minutes. I am not a compulsive eater, or even an over eater. I am a serial eater.