This started out as a journal post one day but I was feeling creative so while the main story is true I added/changed/omitted things here and there just for shits and giggles. It was fun and I still got my point across from my original journal entry.
I am driving home from watching my son play basketball a.k.a. have an all sports free-for-all for toddlers for 45 minutes at the YMCA when I realize that I am getting kind of hungry. I decide to splurge and go for McDonalds. As I’m driving over to said establishment I pray to some/any God/s that may or may not exist to let it not be crowded because my truck has no air conditioning and it could easily be 110 degrees inside my vehicle at that moment. When I think about having to sit in a long-ass, lunch-rush, drive-thru line I have flashes of horror movie scenes where my skin actually starts to melt from my body. Wouldn’t want that now would we, God? As I am pulling in I let out a small sigh of relief. I arrived before the lunch rush. “YES!” I say to no one in particular. I must zone out because all of the sudden it is my turn and I am pulling up to the computer screen that may or may not show me what I am actually going to order depending on the competence of the “Drive-Thru Specialist” taking my order. I panic a little because I have no idea what I want but I try to work it all out in my mind quickly. I think about a happy meal because the portion sizes are appropriate for an adult and it will be more of a normal calorie count for my splurge but I quickly reject that idea because I remember that they don’t put any veggies on the happy meal burgers. I scan the menu for a grilled chicken sandwich but it looks like that is unavailable as well. Could this shit be any unhealthier? I finally just decide to go with a #2 which is the Quarter Pounder Combo. I’m asked if I want this medium or large to which I respond medium while marveling at the enormity of what Americans deem perfectly acceptable portion sizes. I order bottled water for my drink as well as kids chocolate milk because I am kind of in love with chocolate milk. I pay for my artery clogging, sodium enhanced bag of food and think of nothing more while I drive the rest of the way home. I pull everything out of the bag and get everything set up. I sit down in front of it all and actually have the nerve to feel excitement about digging into my splurge meal and then I open the box that contains my sandwich. --the box that is supposed to contain my bun sporting a thin beef patty piled high with veggies and condiments galore. What I encounter instead is a giant version of a happy meal cheeseburger. What the fuck?! Since when did they stop putting everything on burgers by default? I didn’t know I had to specifically ask for things to be put ON the sandwich. I though that people only had to ask for specific things to be taken OFF the sandwich. So, all hope crushed, I sit staring at what I can now essentially call my “Super Huge Happy Meal”. The irony is not lost on me that I had clearly decided in that line not to get a Happy Meal, let alone a ginormous one, with no toy to boot! Well, what the hell? I start eating the shit anyway. While I am chowing down I notice that McDonalds has started putting their nutrition labels on all of their packaging. I clearly love torturing myself so I start tallying up what the damage will be once I am done. This disappointing experience of a meal has added up to more than 1100 calories. This is almost half of my daily allowance of calories. I am lucky I am currently nursing a baby and can eat massive amounts calories or I would be up caloric creek without a paddle. Once I finish eating, I stare blankly at the table and ponder all of this for a few moments. I mentally shrug, get up, throw away my trash and head into the bedroom to hang out with my boys. Fast food sucks!
Monday, August 30, 2010
http://www.creativewritingprompts.com/#
Prompt #2
A picture is worth more than a blank page. Take out those dusty photo albums. Pick out photo #14. Count however way you like, but make sure you stop at photo #14. Look at the photo for 2-3 minutes. Then for 10 minutes, write all the feelings that photograph made you feel. Don't censor yourself. Just write.
This picture looks happy right? Well, that is how most of my pictures appear. But what you see is most definitely not what I am seeing when I look at them. I remember the shit that was going on below the surface in those wonderful Kodak moments. Take this photo. I was about 17 at the time and at a family Easter dinner with my boyfriend. All was going well until I got into some altercation with said boyfriend. I don't remember what it was even about but I remember it was bad. I'm thinking he had cheated on me...again Well, I had to wear my happy face for the family dinner (and this picture I remember) but we ended up sneaking out early to go back to his house and "talk" and boy did we have it out! I ended up having some kind of psychotic breakdown in which I ended up on the floor in their guest room crying and near hyperventilation. Just like most things it wasn't the actual thing at hand that threw me over the edge. It was just the last thing that tipped the pile causing another "episode". Luckily, so I have learned, my boyfriend did not want to talk about why exactly I was crazy. Once I was through I became numb again and then I could continue on with my day. I remember having so many volatile fights with my high school boyfriend. Crazy stuff. Once when we were play fighting it somehow became serious and it escalated to the point where I was chasing him through the house. I had "kill" on my brain. I was hitting at him for all I was worth but as we had ended up on his bed with me on top of him and his legs covering his chest and face all I was hitting was knees. After a few seconds I remember just bursting into tears because I couldn't hurt him like I wanted to. He told me later that it had actually really scared him. I wanted to physically cause him harm on so many occasions. Our relationship was so bipolar...when we were happy (which was a lot), we were really happy but when we were fighting it was a recipe for disaster on both our parts. I'm not writing these things to brag but now that I am older and can look back I realize that while this relationship was certainly never boring it was extremely unhealthy.
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