If you'd known me in high school, you would have known a substantially larger man. When I was a kid I liked eating...a lot. I used to come home from school and eat anything that didn't have a Mr. Yuck sticker on it, and by the time I was a junior I resembled Captain Lou Albano. Through a revolutionary diet of ice cream and watermelon, and by discovering racquetball, the one sport (besides tetherball) in which the ball actually comes back to you, I dropped 90 lbs. over the one summer and came back my senior year as a lean, mean, love machine.
The residual effect of this is that I think more about my weight than a lot of guys do. I'm not quite the two-dimensional being I was that year, but I've managed to stay within acceptable boundaries of mass and girth. I've accomplished this with periodic diets and spurts of exercise, which ironically coincide with periods of gluttony and debauchery. Look, that burger is going to taste better with cheese and bacon on it...it just is...and if you think I'm eating carrots for dinner for the rest of my life you're wildly mistaken. Right now, though, Oodgie and I are jointly recovering from all the mass quantities of turducken and nog consumed over the holidays, so I'm trying to be really good. For the record, I've been a regular freakin' Susan Powter for the last few weeks.
I'm walking through the dim fluorescent glow of our office today, and I happened to pass a cube which I knew...I knew...bore temptation. There's lots of candy floating around our floor, including some insanely high-end chocolate and cookies sent as bribes by vendors. I've ignored it all, secure in my pursuit of better health and a vague Andrew McCarthyness. But I have no defense against the orange/yellow glow of Butterfingers. Even worse...they were FUN SIZE! I want to have FUN! Butterfingers are FUN! And so, soooooo good. That fun size fits right in your pocket (in fact, you can get between 8 and 24 in your pocket, depending on the pants you are wearing...so I'm told) and in the palm of your hand and crunch crunch crunch it's gone, leaving that buttery chocolate taste on your tongue and compacted crispety crunchiness in your molars.
Don't judge me...you know you're craving one now, too! I may be eating cardboard tonight as punishment, but it was worth it.