Sweet Nothings

Let's say things are going bumpy in the night.
Or you're feeling lonesome, misunderstood, betrayed, confused, or depleted.

Let's say you weren't invited to the party--or that you were, and it wasn't fun.

Let's say it's time for something to change--and you don't want it to, and you dig in your heels and try to hold back change, and your heels ache like crazy from all the digging in.

When a cluster of unsettling bumps show up at once in my psyche, instead of politely spread out over a few weeks or months, I tend to resort to middle-of-the-night cookie eating.

I will show you a picture of the empty box, hoping that all those of you who know what I mean will raise your hands in solidarity and let me know if we should start a support group.

These comfort-food cookies remind me of my childhood.  Carlene used to make "Nabisco Pie" for special occasions and the lemony filling was congealed under a layer of crushed sugar wafers.

You cannot purchase these in the state of Texas, as far as I know--and I've looked far and wide.  But for the premium price of $5.19, you can purchase a box in the state of Georgia.  You can purchase as many as you want and bring them back.

I have done this.

And when things go bump in my nights, I have been known to eat one of these "stay fresh packs" inside this Box of Three at one sitting.

Not only do my scales and jeans reflect my Bisco binges, but the sugar cycle is like a big industrial dryer on steroids, round and round it goes, rounder and rounder goes me.

The nutritional value of Sugar Wafers is nil, nothing, nada. I know this. But somehow, certain edibles transport us all to simpler times before we had to make choices, speak up, admit confusion, pay taxes, let go, resolve conflicts, and call Customer Service and talk them into reversing the late fees.

Last night, I was on a roll--speaking of round white things.

Mike was patiently listening, not interrupting, and offering words of wisdom.  After recounting the weightier things that were on my mind, I threw in a couple of minor ones for good measure.

"Are you insane?" he asked--to lighten the mood.  "Go look in the mirror and say that.  If you're smiling when you say it, you're fine.  But if you're serious, you might as well call the authorities and have yourself committed."

I love that man!
He makes me laugh.

But it was on my way to the mirror to check on my sanity that I spied that box of sugar wafers--and, well, it wasn't pretty.