Advanced fighting class was canceled tonight, which was unfortunately because 1. I wanted to beat someone up (if only I had known about fighting class during high school. I could have saved myself those twitching-on-the-floor-on-purpose sessions if I'd had somewhere else to feed my can't-sit-still.), and 2. without fighting class to propel me out the door, I stayed at work well into the evening. Oops. Boundaries I do not have. I'm working on that.
Instead I came home and ate too many malted milk eggs, and then I felt sick. You know how when you are young the older people are all, "That candy is going to make you feel sick," and you are all, "Seriously, what on earth are you talking about?" because candy does not make you feel any sicker than Nacho Cheesier Doritos and Mountain Dew at 5:30 am in the back seat of the van on the way down to your service project. You feel fine, GREAT, after eating a whole box of candy.
And then one day you wake up and you are 31 and a few too many malted milk eggs eaten while you wait for your salad dressing to warm up (homemade; it was in the fridge) make you feel sick, and you realize that you are old. Officially.
Fighting class, you are all that stands between me and too much Easter candy. Come back to me.
P.S. I may be the only person who noticed, but malted milk eggs have chocolate in them, and I ate them anyway. The only thing I can say about that is that yesterday, in all its horror, beat down my will, and I took, and I ate. Lenten fail.
Instead I came home and ate too many malted milk eggs, and then I felt sick. You know how when you are young the older people are all, "That candy is going to make you feel sick," and you are all, "Seriously, what on earth are you talking about?" because candy does not make you feel any sicker than Nacho Cheesier Doritos and Mountain Dew at 5:30 am in the back seat of the van on the way down to your service project. You feel fine, GREAT, after eating a whole box of candy.
And then one day you wake up and you are 31 and a few too many malted milk eggs eaten while you wait for your salad dressing to warm up (homemade; it was in the fridge) make you feel sick, and you realize that you are old. Officially.
Fighting class, you are all that stands between me and too much Easter candy. Come back to me.
P.S. I may be the only person who noticed, but malted milk eggs have chocolate in them, and I ate them anyway. The only thing I can say about that is that yesterday, in all its horror, beat down my will, and I took, and I ate. Lenten fail.
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