I was sent to Wal-Mart last night in between napping, Grey's Anatomy and napping. And before I get to my point, let's talk about two things: A) I hate Wal-Mart. Why is the parking lot always full? My hatred of Wal-Mart, however, has diminished two points with the inception of self-checkout. Oh my God, how fun. And I know, I am a sad, little person. B) I am not pleased with Grey's Anatomy at the moment. Here is what I feel should happen, instead of what is happening: Alex should be nicer to Addison, yet when she leaves for her own show, which I also disapprove of, he should be with Eva; McDreamy should shut the Hell up and make out with me. I mean Meredith; Cristina is a bitch, but I love her. And she needs to let Burke have his wedding; and George and Izzie need to make babies, while Callie sleeps with McSteamy. And then everyone is happy, including me.
Thank you. Back to my point. So, I went to Wal-Mart with a specific list. A list that included cat food (they're hungry), cat treats (they're greedy), a 12-pack of Cherry Coke (he likes to remind me that, "Ha, ha. I didn't give up soda and I get to drink all 12 of these cans, stupid"), and Pringles. But I have been known, I'm just sayin', to pick up a thing or two that is not on The List. A thing or two like a box of Nerds, shampoo, maybe some mint chocolate chip ice cream. But mostly a very large box of Rainbow Nerds.
I like Nerds, OK? They make me happy. And they're good. And I don't care if, when I eat nearly the whole very large box in one 700-calorie sitting, my teeth burn. And last night? I had The Fiance's check card. I had free range of his checking account, which probably isn't much more impressive than mine (read: empty). But I could get those Nerds. And his checking account wouldn't necessarily miss that one dollar and four cents.
So as I skulked through Wal-Mart, on my way to the Cherry Coke, I peeked furtively down the candy aisle. So good. Sweet Nerds. I see you, and I want you.
And then I couldn't resist.
I took an immediately left down the candy aisle, and beelined toward the Nerds. Lovely Nerds in your big, blue box with your happy, bouncing Nerds dancing willy-nilly across the package. I want to grab you, and I want to open you, and my fingers are almost there, and - NO.
No, no, no. I can't do it. My mind raced, reminding myself of 700 calories and sore teeth and something about the number on the scale and how this small divulgence is really a step backward in my master plan to end up on the cover of Self Magazine in a strapless bikini. Dammit. I actually had to tell myself, "No," out loud, and turn around.
I walked away from the candy aisle slowly, as violins hummed the bittersweet melody of defeat. Or maybe that was elevator music, I'm not sure, but whatever. I was able to refuse Nerds.
And today, I'm totally making up for it with a potluck lunch of barbecues, Pringles, dirt cake and other, varied items that are bad for my waistline. Success.