You deserve a Spring Break today
The spring break debauchery continues, readers! I spent last night doing blow off a hooker's ass and singing "Your Love" by The Outfield at a karaoke bar. I woke up this morning in the bed of a complete stranger! Spring break 2006, baby!
I'm not kidding anyone. I spent last night hanging out with my married friend in the suburbs, and I woke up in my old bedroom at my parents' house. I even had to go into work today. The most scandalous thing I've done since I last saw my students was eat fast food, and I'd probably feel less guilt about doing blow off a hooker's ass than I do about my recent trip to McDonalds.
Saturday I had a little tiff with the BF*, so I called Michael crying and told him I needed to have a drink. We went to The Map, a local tavern we frequently visit, and I drowned my sorrows in a bottle of pinot. Once again, on
the way home, we went to McDonalds. In my entire life, I can count on one hand that number of times I've eaten fast food, but you wouldn't know that from reading my blog. Once I moved in with Michael, somehow I became incapable of resisting fast food when under the influence. When I'm sober, I see Michael bring home McDonalds pretty regularly. I'm not even tempted by it. Sure the fries smell good, but I usually resist so that I can continue to be successful in Weight Watchers. When I'm drunk though, my judgment is obviously impaired, and an impending Weight Watchers meeting weigh-in can't deter me from the McDonalds that is just blocks from my apartment. I've done some pretty irresponsible things under the influence**, but I regret going to McDonalds the most. The kicker is that, on our walk there, my thought process was as follows: "This is a good idea. I won't regret this. I lost weight again this week, so I DESERVE this order of fries and 6 piece chicken McNugget. I predict I'll feel less hung over in the morning because of this trip to McDonalds."
Needless to say, my prediction was not accurate.
* This passed. We're fine, in case anyone is curious.
** There is a portion of my life which I don't write about on this blog for various reasons. It's mostly in my past and always involves bad decision making and a bottle of pinot grigio.
I'm not kidding anyone. I spent last night hanging out with my married friend in the suburbs, and I woke up in my old bedroom at my parents' house. I even had to go into work today. The most scandalous thing I've done since I last saw my students was eat fast food, and I'd probably feel less guilt about doing blow off a hooker's ass than I do about my recent trip to McDonalds.
Saturday I had a little tiff with the BF*, so I called Michael crying and told him I needed to have a drink. We went to The Map, a local tavern we frequently visit, and I drowned my sorrows in a bottle of pinot. Once again, on
the way home, we went to McDonalds. In my entire life, I can count on one hand that number of times I've eaten fast food, but you wouldn't know that from reading my blog. Once I moved in with Michael, somehow I became incapable of resisting fast food when under the influence. When I'm sober, I see Michael bring home McDonalds pretty regularly. I'm not even tempted by it. Sure the fries smell good, but I usually resist so that I can continue to be successful in Weight Watchers. When I'm drunk though, my judgment is obviously impaired, and an impending Weight Watchers meeting weigh-in can't deter me from the McDonalds that is just blocks from my apartment. I've done some pretty irresponsible things under the influence**, but I regret going to McDonalds the most. The kicker is that, on our walk there, my thought process was as follows: "This is a good idea. I won't regret this. I lost weight again this week, so I DESERVE this order of fries and 6 piece chicken McNugget. I predict I'll feel less hung over in the morning because of this trip to McDonalds."
Needless to say, my prediction was not accurate.
* This passed. We're fine, in case anyone is curious.
** There is a portion of my life which I don't write about on this blog for various reasons. It's mostly in my past and always involves bad decision making and a bottle of pinot grigio.
posted by Sue Ellen Mischke at 5:38 PM
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