Mamma's gotta eat!

When "that time of the month" rolls around I eat. And eat. And eat. I'm crazy with the eating. Stand still too long and I might eat you. I'm normally a very conservative and health conscious eater, but for about 4 days every month that all goes out the window. Screw you healthy eating! I'm a woman on a mission! Cookies? Yes. Candy? Please. Cake? 2 slices. Chips? Leave the bag. After the 3-4 day eating binge, I lay on the sofa, partially hydroginized oils seeping from my pores, and realize I have to stop and get back to the gym. God I hate that last day. The upset stomach, the extra weigh, not being able to look at food without wanting to vomit. Fun!

This is all bad enough, but about 2-3 times a year it gets realy bad. I mean like crazy bad. To the point where I get obsessed with 1 or 2 specific foods and must have them. Things I normally wouldn't eat in any large quantity or things I wouldn't eat at all. The last time this happened was shortly before Shrek the third came out we were ramping up by watching the DVD's of Shrek 1 and 2. In Shrek 1, in case you've been living under a rock and don't know, Donkey invites himself to stay with Shrek and utters the line "And in the morning, I'm making waffles!" That line sparked my hormones and I became obsessed with waffles and pancakes. I like both, but really only eat them about 3-4 times a year as a rule. I like pancakes, but they sit in my stomach like a lump of lead afterwards rendering me completely useless until they've digested. That's a great excuse to get out of things, BTW. "Sorry, I can't help you move. I ate a short stack this morning and have to let them digest before I do anything. I'll just be on your sofa watching TV in the mean time." Try it. People are so astonished that you can really get away with it.

Anyway, waffles and pancakes were on my mind all the time and on my plate at least twice a day for 4 days. It was truly horrible. I still can't look at Mrs. Butterworth. After my carb and sugar filled binge I don't think I ate another pancake or waffle for about 4 months. All that syrup can mess with your head. It's strong stuff, man, strong stuff.

This month, when my good old friend "Aunt Flo" rolled around (that is a totally stupid name, BTW) I got the crazies again. Well, I kind of always have the crazies, but you know what I mean. What was the object of my obsession this time you wonder? I'm embarassed to admit it, but for you I will bear the humiliation: Easy cheese. Oh, you read it right, cheese in a can. I've sunk low. Real low. Cheese in a can is something that has never, not even once been in my shopping cart, but I was in the store and walked passed it on the cracker aisle and suddenly I had to have it. I swear I was like a Southerner staring down collard greens. The pull of the aerosol cheese was too strong to resist. I covertly looked around to see if anyone was watching and grabbed a can (Cheddar) and tossed it in the cart and threw a box of Ritz on top of it. I raced to the self check out (no cashier will be looking down on me while I buy my ooey goodness in a can), paid and dashed home hugging my bag to my chest like it contained treasure. At home, I opened a pack of Ritz (truly the greatest cracker ever) and squirted out my cheese in a nice little star pattern. I was so excited it was almost comical. Cheese in a star shape! How freaking awesome is that? I placed the cracker in my mouth and sweet heaven was it awful. I mean awful. Not even the Ritz could cover the horror that was assaulting my poor taste buds. It was like eating a musty gym sock. Yum! You'd think I'd stop there, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you? Of course you would, because who in their right mind would eat squishy cheese that tastes like a gym sock? Oh, let's not forget, I was NOT in my right mind. My mind had been taken over by the crazies. I had to have more. Can you believe it? Me neither, but there you have it. I sat down and at an entire sleever of Ritz, all covered in that repulsive oddly orange squishy cheese. Yes. I. Did. Even as I was doing it, I knew it was wrong, wrong, wrong, yet I could not stop. Mercifully, I was drawn into this bubbling vat of hormones, for only 2 days when I finally broke free of its malovolent grip and came back to reality. I hung my head in shame and threw away the evidence of my 2 day spiral into the depths of darkness and self destruction. I still have trouble wrapping my head around that fact that I actually ate almost an entire can-o-cheese. I have no idea what demon posses me every few months, but when it does, there is no denying the beast. Sadly, all I can do is wait around and pray that next time it doesn't come in the form of an urge for dirt or shredded tires or pickled eggs.