Ostomy people, as we are all painfully aware, must watch WHAT they eat, HOW they eat, HOW MUCH they eat, and WHEN they eat. Some foods may present digestive issues, others may produce the dreaded belly putters, while some induce what I discretely refer to as “the trots.” Importantly, I will rarely eat anything after dinner, and certainly not within an hour of bedtime. Yet, my own personal dilemma, I’m forced to admit, is that I have a terrible eating disorder. Normally, I would be reticent to openly discuss this malady, but I have to face up to it. No, it’s not bulimia, it’s not anorexia, it’s not even pica (eating non-foods!). Here it is, I admit shamefully: I have NOSHEREXIA. I snack constantly, certainly a nervous disorder of the worst kind. Midway through the morning, sitting at my computer, I’m shoving pretzels in my mouth. Following lunch, I may be noshing away on crackers, or cookies, or soft peppermint puffs, or tootsie rolls. My sweet tooth has always held more sway over my daily life than religion, sports, or even attractive women. It’s a terrible burden to bear, I can tell you. The sole plus that occurs to me of Trump winning a second term will be that bulimia-like purging behavior will immediately commence with constant and sustained vomiting, thus minimizing the prospect of continuing to add on the pounds. I wonder if Hollister stocks barf bags that I can purchase along with my regular ostomy order.