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Tuesday, June 5th, 2007
Another thing about me is that when I have my most special week of the month, I go absolutely bananas over food. And by that I mean, I eat absolutely no bananas, but I eat just about everything else in sight. From the moment I wake up to the second I am lying in my parents' bed watching Leno, I guarantee I have a plastic bag of mini Oreo's perched on my stomach that I can will into my mouth with my mind power because I want them that bad.
It is only a development from this year and is definitely the reason why I packed on eight pounds at school, because it was so easy to satisfy there. I knew it was coming, so on the way back from class I just grabbed a shopping bag and bought Caramel Cone and chocolate croissants and donuts and a tower of cereal and Fritos, and then I'd make a pit-stop at the vending machine for Snickers and Twix and Starburst. And then some health-minded girls in the hall would ask if I'd had dinner, and would see my bed littered in wrappers and crumbs and the insatiable look on my face and reprimand me.
(It got so bad that for Lent I gave up the snack machine, and people laughed at me because what a pathetic excuse for a sacrifice, but it was actually the most legitimate thing I've ever given up, partly because I always forget to give things up, but mostly because I wanted that snack machine so fucking bad the entire time.)
But here, my mom can't possibly know what I'm going to be craving or when, and she can't possibly be expected to drive up to BC and ask for chocolate croissants, which leaves me with very few options this week. I finished off the mini Oreo's on Saturday, the Goldfish were stale, I certainly don't know how to make Belgian waffles bursting with candy, and I do NOT want Chips Ahoy! at all. Yesterday was an up-and-down day of going to the hospital and being disappointed by test results, and screaming in the car even though nothing would come out, and watching Unbreakable and feeling like a superhero, then watching Love Actually and crying like a poor shmuck, then standing in the rain and feeling like a beauty queen, then going inside for something chocolate and finding absolutely nothing.
Usually, the rage that then overtakes me is my strongest indicator that I am out of control and need to stop thinking I'm hungry because I'm not really. It's usually when I hit that point that I go back up to my room and resign myself to the fact that there's no more Cocoa Puffs and that's okay. Which marks yesterday as the first day I have ever been so food-frustrated that I got in the car and drove to the store for junk food just because I wanted it. I bought Oreo's and a tub of Chubby Hubby, and then I sat on the couch and ate it.
And then the dog stuck her nose at me to be cute, and I screamed my bloody head off. I screamed "NO GRETTY, NO, NO, NO, YOU DO NOT LOOK AT ME RIGHT NOW, YOU DO NOT TOUCH ME RIGHT NOW" so loud and scratchily that she actually left the room, I actually made her leave the room with her tail between her legs. Tub came in after and I did the same thing, I said, "NO, NO, NO, DON'T TOUCH MY FEET RIGHT NOW, DON'T EVEN TOUCH MY--YOU DID IT, YOU TOUCHED MY FOOT, I TOLD YOU NO, I TOLD YOU LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU CAT." And even he left, even a cat the size of a Great Dane that doesn't take anything from anyone left the room.
I started looking at this from a sad perspective, trying to figure out what dark corners of my mind these overreactions come from, but I decided to just pretend I was pregnant, and then it became a lot funnier.
Replies: 3 Comments
gia said at 02:41 PM, 6.5.07:i fucking loved this.
Ashley said at 03:17 PM, 6.5.07:this is great. i love the last line, i definitely lol'd at that one.
katie kerr said at 08:49 AM, 6.7.07:i miss you all the time, but a lot more intensely after having read this. can we please get the day off soon and hang out, ovaries and hormones be damned.