I was listening to Simon and Garfunkel on the way home from work last night. When Mrs. Robinson came on, one of my old childhood questions came flooding back. Namely, if you want to hide something in a hiding place where no one ever goes, why on earth would you put it near the cupcakes? In my mind, involving cupcakes has never helped keep a secret. Wouldn’t you expect everyone to go to where the cupcakes are? I know you can at least expect me to be there; however, you can also be sure that I would try to keep the location of the cupcakes quiet in hopes of not having to share. Really, my logic says that at least one person is bound to find your hiding place in search of a good dessert. What am I missing?
Today at work I was eating one of those pieces of chocolate that have the inspirational messages on the foil. Mine said “a fuller life is a sweeter life.” And I had to pause for a moment and wonder if maybe the chocolate company had placed too much faith in my life-filling abilities. It seems like they are implying that I should be be living a life fuller in family, friends, and meaningful social interaction – I don’t really think they had a life full of Arrested Development reruns in mind. I’m not sure I am going to hold up my end of the chocolate bargain.
This afternoon my boss told me that I was like Brad Pitt in Ocean’s 11 because every time she saw me today I was eating. We happen to share a cubicle, so I’m guessing she saw me fairly frequently…
Somebody put out a whole shopping bag full of Hershey’s Kisses in the break room sometime on Friday night. I was the only one in the office on Sunday. I think that maybe there’s a slight chance that I ate an excessive amount of Kisses…
A proverb says that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I’m starting to think that so are the roads to saddlebags and love handles…
I got into work on Sunday and found the bag in the break room while I was getting water. I didn’t think too much about it, grabbed a Kiss and got to work. Because I drink water like a camel in a desert, I was back in the break room in 5 minutes (or maybe I subconsciously just wanted more chocolate…hmm…) Anyway, this trip I brought a small handful back to my desk with me. Those lasted maybe 15 minutes. The next trip didn’t even disguise itself as a water run. I went to the break room and did a two-handed grab of chocolatey delight.
In my defense, my intention was to 1) use chocolate as a reward to help motivate me to work and 2) save the majority of them for Monday. The system started out well. I divided out my reward pile and put the rest away. I got back to work and rewarded myself with a Kiss whenever I finished steps of my project. This is where the system started unravelling. Soon, my goals to reach Kiss-dom were fairly small. As in “I found the page with the information I need…Kiss!” And thus my reward pile dwindled.
The problem really started when my reward pile was all gone after I had finished something actually deserving of a reward. And what’s the point of a reward system if you don’t get a prize at the end? So I broke into the ‘tomorrow’ stash.
I was on a roll in my project at that point and was kind of cruising along. All of a sudden, I looked over at the Gigantic Pile of foil that had accumulated on my desk and had one of those “who ate all of my Kisses?” moments. It was then that I decided that I really did need to put the chocolate away before I accidentally ate my calculator without realizing it…
Except for then my OCD-esque tendencies kind of took over. Because I couldn’t put the chocolate away when the number of Kisses in each color of foil wasn’t even. I had to fix the foil issue before storing the chocolate. So I ate more…
After things were all even, the pile looked pretty small. It was at that point that I decided it probably wasn’t worth “going through the hassle” of saving just a few chocolates. I guess I could liken it to Joey on Friends worrying about becoming the kind of guy who only eats half a Power Bar and then saves the rest for later. I mean really. So I finished them off and ended the day when I ate approximately my body weight in Hershey’s Kisses…
All in all, I do not find it to be coincidental that my dessert consumption is directly proportionate to the amount of overtime that I work.
I have entered a rather busy time at work as of late. It turns out that getting everything done for the end of the year makes for a rather stressful November. Lots of long hours and for the first time ever, weekends. That said, I had a rather frustrating afternoon. And afternoons like this can only be solved by one thing. Gelato.
The gelato shop is one of my favorite places in Denver, mainly because it houses one of my favorite desserts in the entire world. I love gelato. Thus, the discovery of a place that devotes itself to the sweet-delicious-goodness-of-ice-cream-perfected a MERE THREE BLOCKS FROM MY OFFICE is kind of like heaven smiling down and saying “I love you, Rachel.”
The story gets even better because I have discovered that the gelato store has further aligned its interests with my own. Not only to those kind folks dedicate their afternoons to helping me keep my sanity, but they have added a Financial Incentive for me to come. Because I get airline miles. That’s right, I’m rewarded with free airline miles Every Time! I eat gelato. It’s kind of like Cellulosa (the Greek goddess of obesity) is smiling down and saying, “Don’t feel guilty about indulging yourself, Rachel. Don’t worry that you use ice cream as a coping mechanism. It’s good for you — would you be getting airline miles for every dollar you spent if it weren’t? I don’t think so.” And that’s the kind of logic that I can succomb to.
I ordered my straticella and the kid scooping asked me what size. At that point, it was kind of like my stomach was smiling down and saying, “Eh, what the hell(-ato)? If I’m getting miles for this…” Large, please!
Today I had a blueberry smoothie for breakfast. It was like trying to drink semi-sweet muffin batter. And as I semi-gagged upon the first drink, I looked skeptically at the bottle. Having never had this kind before and vowing never having had it again, I checked the brand. The bottle very boldly proclaimed “Live!” and I thought to myself that drinking this was the exact opposite of living with an exclamation point. It was more in line with living with a question mark. As in “drink this and live?” Then I read the fine print and read “smoothie with live cultures” and I wondered if maybe the drink name was supposed to be read as “live” (rhymes with jive), as in “this drink is infested with alive bacteria ready to assault your tastebuds the moment you open the bottle.”
My conclusions from the whole experience were as follows:
~The drink name was either completely inaccurate or completely disturbing, but either way it’s interpreted, the smoothie is gross.
~This drink falls squarely into the “not worth the calories” category.
~Chugging this sucker could be a good candidate for a Fear Factor-esque competition in the workplace.
~Today is a good day to go buy a bagel.