So, today I was feeling a bit on the melancholy side, it being Monday and all, and I decided that I needed a "food is love" moment.
It happens (once a day) sometimes that I just need a sugary snack to quell my anxieties. I'm a chick with a sweet tooth, and a derriere to prove it.
Today I couldn't pass up the most giantest of cupcakes--I knew it wasn't going to even compare to
these little balls of heaven, but hell, it was the next best thing. So I bought it, and sheepishly snuck it into my office.
I knew it was a stupid thing to do, because I knew I was going to get "caught". Not that I am a closet eater or anything like that, but the last thing someone who looks like me (read, not skinny) wants to do is be seen with a cupcake the size of my right tit (read, big) so that all the anorexic women in my office can look at me and sneer.
I took a bite of the cupcake and pushed it aside, almost hiding it behind a folder rack. Maybe I wouldn't even eat the rest of it. One bite was all I needed...
...and then, one of the aforementioned anorexic women decided to pay me a visit.
I could feel my palms get sweaty. I lost my train of thought. I tried to position myself in front of the cupcake so that she wouldn't be able to see it, sitting there, big bite taken out of it. I felt confident that the cupcake was hidden from sight, until...
"What the hell is that?" she giggled and pointed. Maybe she's talking about my parrot tiki mug?
No such luck. I followed her gaze. She was giving my cupcake the evil eye.
"Jesus. That thing is huge. Look at that pile of frosting!" she shrieked. Oh I didn't need to look. I knew how big the pile was. It was the size of a giant's fist.
I stammered, "I...uh...sometimes I just gotta....you know.....stress eat....going to gym...later..." as if this could make up for the deadly sin I was commiting, eating more than 1500 calories, in one sitting.
She continued on an on, discussing the sugar, the fat, the jitters I would get, the diabetic coma I was going to go into. She pulled another co-worker aside and said "Look how stressed out she is, she needs to eat such a thing."
I snapped back to my senses and finally started to get annoyed. "The only thing I'm stressed out about is the fact that you are insisting on analyzing my food."
She finally got the message, and she and her bony ass left my cube.
I then proceeded to finish off the entire fucking cupcake, paper and all. When that was gone, I ate my desk, my phone, and my cubemates.
The only thing that is left is this laptop, but rest assured, once I finish typing, it's going down the hatch, mateys.
6 comments:
I hate it when people have to analyze and comment on what you're eating. They deserve what they got.
what a cunt (not you, the stick figure who needed to be critical of you in order to make herself feel better about her bony ass - and i just used that term without even realizing that you used it, too :)
Love your blog....you should have snapped her in half like the skinny twig she is. The next time you see her eating her baby carrots or her edamame or whatever skinny people subsist on, you should go on and on about how low levels of body fat impact estrogen secretion, and how thinner women are more succeptible to osteoporosis, her hip could snap at any minute! Right after you drop into that diabetic coma, probably.
What a shitty person. The only problem is HER insecurities about food. Like, do whatever YOU want but don't bother other people. That's just as bad as coming to your house and badgering you about joining one's religion. You sound like a perfectly healthy person. I bet she couldn't do a triathelon. You have to reward yourself sometimes and enjoy food.
I envoke the Paris Hilton defense: jealousy.
You know what would fun? Walking by their collective cubes, eating your delicious cupcake and raving about how it's positively orgasmic. Then sneer at their carrots.
i feel bad for the skinny people. they dont eat cheesecake. and quite honestly, what good is life without big cupcakes, cheesecake and other such things?
i can assure you that i wont lie on my deathbed wishing i'd looked better in a bikini, but i may very well wish that i'd eaten more cheesecake...
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