Upon Returning from My First Restaurant Lunch in Months, I Pause to Reflect

How can this be? Blech.
I feel like ten pounds of full
In a five pound bag.

Why did we do it?
Why on Earth did we order
All the food, ever?

There’s only so much
Blue cheese, chips, and lemonade
A girl can digest.

And yet here we are
Splayed in our chairs, arms akimbo
Praying for sweet death.

Buffalo Chicken
Certainly won’t be welcome
Back anytime soon

Even as a wrap
That freaking sandwich is still
The size of my head

And now, as I chew
Another in a series
Of chalky Fruit TUMS™

I think of those days
OH! Those sweet halcyon days
When we could eat junk

And not slip into
A bleary-eyed food coma
All damn afternoon

But those days are gone
I find myself pondering
How long I have ’til

I’m wearing sweaters
All day and eating dinner
When the sun’s still up

Counting out my change
Losing my keys, my handbag,
Scowling at children

I’ll not eat again
Not ever again, I say!
It’s unthinkable!

What did you just say?
There’s a cake in the breakroom?
Well, just a small piece.

3 Responses

  1. I loved this.

    And it’s a battle I wage every day…

  2. Oh, how I hear you, sister.
    I am currently so full of manicotti and eggplant that I can barely move. And wishing that I hadn’t eaten all the tums last week.

  3. Oh so true.
    Sometimes I think my body must not produce that little hormone (gherlin) that hollers up at the brain, “You’re full already! Quit stuffing it!”

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