Thursday, September 13, 2007
I'm Losin' It, But Not as Much as Kathy Griffin
I've already lost my cell phone.
When I walked out of my office today, I realized I had lost my car, at least temporarily.
Why? Because in an effort to break out of small ruts I'm in (thus gingerly coaxing myself to break out of even bigger ruts) I:
1. Parked completely on the other side of my building.
2. Parted my hair completely on the other side of my head.
Look out; next thing you know I'll be opening a package completely on the wrong side of the box just for kicks.
My hair today: it flipped; it flopped. It acted like a teenaged girl at a Beatles' concert, swooning dramatically if somebody even looked at me. You know how when your baby tooth is so loose that it just hangs by a thread of flesh, and you can wiggle it 360* and it remains attached? That was my floppish hair in the front today. What was I thinking?
By the end of the day, I was grabbing it up in a wad in my hand and holding it there like Pebbles Flintstone's hair.
But I digressed from losing it. It's not just tangible objects I'm losing; it's my sanity as well. Here's why:
There is this certain time of day, I'd say anywhere from 1:00 p.m. to midnight, where I intensely, intensely crave chocolate.
"So what" you say? "Big deal! Eat some chocolate!" Oh, you are so naive.
Can Kathy Griffin limit herself to one word? Can Paula Deen limit herself to one teaspoon of buttuh? No. And so I cannot limit myself once the "Cocoa Monkey" jumps onto my back.
Yesterday, I had it bad. Now, my personal tipping point comes when I give into my all-time favorite food on the earth and even in outer space, the no-bake chocolate oatmeal peanut butter cookies that sometimes don't set up and you have a bowl of goop you have to eat with a spoon. Either way, I'm in heaven. A crazed, shameful heaven.
I have that recipe memorized. But really, it's so bad that I usually cannot have all of the same ingredients in the house simultaneously. Either the cocoa or sugar or oatmeal has to go.
So I made a "half-batch" last night. Guess how many were left this morning? Three. Guess how many my daughter ate? 0. Husband? 0.
I AM OUT OF CONTROL!
At work, the craving hit today, and I refused to give in to buying chocolate at our cafe. I bought fruity water sweetened with Splenda. I thought, "Surely this will fix the sugar fix." It did for about 30 minutes, and I was back to jonesin' for that devilish brown powder in chunkified form.
I swore to myself I would not eat the last three when I got home today. There they sat. I looked at them. They looked at me--and winked with a come-on. Do you know what I did? (Eat them?) No, I opened a packet of Splenda and poured it on my tongue.
Straight Splenda. On my tongue.
It worked for about an hour. And then I ate the cookies. And then I threw away my cocoa. And grieved over the trash can like it was an open grave.
Verse for the day: Romans 7:15, "For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I."
Yeah. "What I done did do was not what I shouldda do at all. But I done it. Help me Lord." Amen.