Saturday, 8 February 2014

This weather is making me hungry.

Yesterday after the gym, I ordered a heaping plate of deep fried potato wedges instead of green salad with my chicken breast. I doused them with vinegar and on the side plopped a good fat dollop of ketchup for dipping. I was a ninja getting back to my desk; short cuts and no eye contact.
Quiet. Stealthy.
Nothing to see here folks. As you were. Please talk amongst yourselves.

Back at my desk. It wasn’t pretty.

I ate as if I’d come off of a thirty day famine. The wedges were crisp and golden, heftier than their French fry cousins. They’d been seasoned with salt and pepper then tossed with dried rosemary; still piping hot, perfect for dunking into the ketchup. An ice cold pint of beer would have been perfect. I gulped water.

I munched and read through the emails that had piled up in my inbox over the lunch hour. When every last wedge was gone, every last bit of ketchup sopped up, I sat staring at the screen.

Full. Yes.
Complete? No.

Then, the faintest whisper.
Something very familiar.
I typed away furiously, doing my best to lalalalala.
It got louder.
Twenty minutes, I mouthed over and over, twenty minutes.
It started to shout then.
Five pounds, five pounds, five pounds I chanted desperately.
But it drowned me out: CHOCOLATE!

My fingers stopped typing. My legs automatons.
There was no drinking water till it shut up. No tricking it into submission with a rice cake and peanut butter.  
Before I knew what was happening, I was running to the escalators, bee lining it to the coffee cart, running my finger over the plastic enclosure on the platter of dessert pastries: Date square? No.
Éclair? No, no.
Oatmeal bar with raisins? Absolutely no.
And then... Yes, yes, yes: Thick chocolate cover, layers of peanuts and rice crispies, glued together with firm hardened caramel.  

Hello Dolly. How do I know your name?

I scurried scurried my ninja-self back to my desk. I sat. Looked around.
Had anyone noticed?
I cut the square in two and sliced one of the halves into thin pieces. I lay the slices out flat on a napkin.
I’ll take the other half home. Dessert for the kids.
I then responded to the emails. Popped each slice into my mouth.

Sweet, crunchy, chocolaty. Salty. Calming.

I looked down and the slices were gone. I cut a sliver off the other half.
They’re so picky, I reminded myself. They won’t like this.
Another sliver. Another slice. And another.  
I looked down and it was all gone.

The sugar was now swirling in my head.
I was dizzy.
Water. I needed water.
Ughhhhh. Oh my geeeezzzzz.
My pants are too tight.
Why? Why????
I need to lie down.
Or throw up.
Oh godddd, why?
Why did I eat the whole thing?
I need the couch.
I need my comfy pants,
To run ten miles.


This is the last time.
I swear.

I'm yearning for these kinds of days.


Secret Agent Woman said...

Are you trying to trick yourself into thinking it's summer with those photos?

Kim said...

Just yearning for summer ...I'd take a chilly spring over what we're getting here!

Barbara said...

Story of my life. I eat breakfast in the morning to keep myself from eating the snacks at work and then without fail I down the croissant at around 10 am. Le sigh.

Kim said...

Ohhhhh croissant!


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...