Tuesday, January 1, 2008

01/01/08: "7/11"-RESTAURANT PRO TEMPORE

If one is ill-prepared, January 1, can "do a body harm." This is going to be the last year I ever look in my refrigerator and see nothing to eat. What to do? Everything seems closed on New Years Day.

Whoa! Wait a minute! What NEVER closes, even when everyone's been killed in a stick-up?

A 7-Eleven Convenience Store never closes. Godzilla, terrorists, perfect storms--no problem! So, I took my hunger there. Drat! Hordes of people had hit my favorite 7-Eleven before I could make it there. Sleeping late on New Years! I made every error in the book. You never sleep late on New Years, if your refrigerator is empty. My bad!

Still, I managed to pick up two quarter-pounders, a kielbasa, a banana (not squishy), and a bag of Cheetos. Oh, and a 24 oz. cup of fresh coffee (regular). [Do I seem a little hyper? What are you looking at?]

Retiring into my mini office, I set my "feast" on an adjacent table, turned on the tv expecting to see a little "run left, run right, run up the gut, etc.," and to my bitter surprise, I find myself watching a news program about a nearby so-and-so who had won millions in the lottery. Frankly, I prefer lottery winners to be far away. It sort of reenforced my notion that January One was not my day.

I started in with the quarter-pounder, followed with the kielbasa, continued with another quarter-pounder (all of these with mustard only), knocked off the Cheetos (after struggling about ten minutes opening the plastic bag), and then finished the banana for desert.

I felt a little "piggy" already. My heart was working hard. [Possibly the coffee at work, I thought. But who knows?]

Still, there was some sort of surge, allowing me to propel myself into hours of pointless activity at the keyboard of my computer. My fingers didn't seem to be functioning with their usual dexterity. Was it some sort of new syndrome? I hear about new syndromes nearly every day on radio and television news programs, as well as info-mercials.

I am NOT a hypochondriac. It's just there are all these things going wrong, doncha know? Do ya?

I don't point the finger of guilt at 7-Eleven. My own doings. I feel bloated though. The coffee helped anyway.

What are you looking at?

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