Monday, February 11, 2008

A Lesson in Self Control

My dad is always talking about self control. Well, he is always talking about a lot of things and he likes to teach me wise lessons, often through telling a story, or giving an example, much like he is presenting a power point to a group of fascinated philosophy students. One thing he loves to lecture on, or warn me about, are often things he does himself. Case in point: Self control or lack thereof, especially when it comes to desserts.

I am very similar to my father in a lot of ways, and one thing I inherited was a serious sweet tooth and a pension for chocolate. (My mother had this to a lesser degree, although I remember being little and opening random cupboards and drawers to discover a bag of Twizzlers, that was probably several months old. I actually think she preferred them stale. This is not at all surprising.) I don't like pastries or fruity desserts, but I do love chocolate. Dark chocolate, specifically. I also love ice cream. Over the past three years I've started to notice a strange effect after I eat such desserts, however, and am confused as to what is going on.

For example, about five minutes ago, after I ate my delicious Chinese Chicken Salad for lunch (I probably eat 3 of these a week, minimum), I moved onto a small little dessert. I've been on a York Peppermint Patty kick, but last night at Whole Paycheck (Whole Foods, obv) I purchased one of their delish flourless chocolate cake slices, and had a part of it last night, saving the rest for my post-lunch treat. I ate the cake, marveling at its tastiness (how do people cook such wonders?) but I knew in about five minutes I would be regretting even the first bite. Every time I eat anything sweet, like ice cream, chocolate, even a butter croissant (which I rarely eat, except in times of desperation. I just read that. I sound like an asshole), any one of these treats leaves me with the overwhelming sense of nausea.

My dad would tell me how I need to learn self control and to just not eat the sweets, (I am starting to think I might have a slight lactose intolerance, which would definitely explain the chocolate and ice cream) but the thing is, I don't want to. Sometimes, there is nothing better than a perfect chocolate cake. I am trying to use a York Peppermint Patty to satisfy this dessert craving, but it's not always effective. Hence the cake.

What I am really saying is that all I want to do is vomit all over my keyboard right now. The feeling will pass in about another five to ten minutes, but until then, I feel positively sick to my stomach. That's really the point of this post. To complain. And so I can distract myself from this miserable sensation. I am nervous my boss will walk over to me and see the look of displeasure I am currently wearing and ask what's wrong. Because it's my own fault. I must be lactose intolerant. Self control can only get you so far, because in the end, it might just be a medical condition. Fingers crossed.

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