Today I was tired and cranky and we had some mini VIP visitors. It was making for a stressful day and I had to postpone my Ass Kicker workout until the afternoon instead of my normal 11AM time. I was out of sorts and a bit lost.
Feeling restless, I headed away from my desk looking for adventure. I put a $1.50 in my pocket...just in case I happened across a vending machine...just in case. I'm not saying I was heading straight for the vending machine, but I'm also not saying I wasn't.
Moments later, I was standing in front of the vending machine. This machine was not little black dress (LBD) compatible. What did I want? What did I need? Well, I needed nothing. I wasn't hungry. I was craving something. But what? I see they added some Kashi chips in there. Health food. Also some popcorn chips. Maybe I needed some peanut M&M's? Kind of healthy...protein and some chocolate. What about Red Vines? Nah, too sugary. Maybe the Gardetto's reduced sodium snack mix? Oh wait, if I really wanted to get my bang for my buck fifty, I should get the vanilla creme filled cookies. Nah, those make me sick. Reeces peanut butter cups? No. DAMMIT! I'm getting something. No, stop it, you don't need anything. This is not okay. Why are you here? What is wrong with you? Just as I was pondering all these things, down in the left hand corner in the bottom row, sitting there quietly, not flashy, but still noteworthy...is that really an apple turnover?!? My heart started to race, my saliva glands immediately started producing saliva you could see glistening in the corners of my mouth. This was going to taste so good...so right...I was going to practically make love to that apple turnover thing. I wanted it. I needed it. It wanted me. I know it did. It was plump in the package, bulging just a little. My word, it was ripe. I bet it was the kind of thing that you could sink your teeth into and apple ooze goes everywhere. I mean, it wasn't just a whimpy apple pie, it was pushing the limits of it's wrapper. I needed it. Bad.
And this is where the real showdown started. I was alone, just standing in front of the machine. Not close enough to touch it, but not so far as to not be able to get to the machine in a hurry. The lighting was just right. Not so bright as to make your presence obvious, but just the right amount of dim lighting so that people could stand in their own shame and purchase from the machine without detection or judgement from the outside world. My stomach was longing for that apple turnover and all of it's juicy deliciousness. I pulled the dollar bill from my pocket and straightened it, I smoothed it while I stared at the machine. I darted back to the popcorn chips, then the M&M's. This was wrong. I knew it, all my pony personalities knew it and this was certainly not an LBD approved activity. The air vent was blowing in such a way as a couple of strands of hair teased my cheek. You could almost hear the tune of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly playing. This was epic. That turnover had what I needed...love, sugar, dough, gooey filling and happiness. I didn't care if it was right. I wanted to be wrong. I didn't care who knew I was wrong (but I should still eat this in the dark corners of the basement or something). I didn't care about the LBD. Wait, yes I did. I did care. I do care. I couldn't do this. NO. Shut up bitches, I'm doing this. The tension mounted. I had been standing in front of the machine for what seemed like an hour. I couldn't decide. Why did this have to be so hard? Why did that apple turnover have to be in there pulsating with apple goodness? WHY? WHY? WHY? I was going to the gym this afternoon, it would be okay. I would work it off. Wait, how many calories are in that damn thing? Is it really worth it? Hell yeah, it's worth it? But, what if I ate it too fast and then it was gone and then it was over and then, there I was with stickiness dripping from my chin and I didn't have anymore money? No mo pie?! I started to panic. My eyes darted back and forth, my heart yearning.
And then, almost as quickly as it started, I said to myself, "What the hell is wrong with you? Get your ass out of here." And just like that, I holstered my dollar and left the vending machine room.
I got back to my desk, pulled out some apple slices from my pony lunch bag an ate a couple. Then realized, I wasn't really hungry. Go figure. I worked until it was time for Ass Kicker and went downstairs to see what he had in store for me. Apparently, what he had in store for me is called "Wall Balls." A 12 pound medicine ball that you squat with and then throw it up at the wall about 6 feet over your head. We did a whole circuit of stuff until sweat was pouring off my face. I said to him, "Do you hate me? Cuz, I hate your guts right now." And when I thought I couldn't do any more, it was time to do some boxing. When I left I was tired and dragging. It is by far the hardest workout I have done. I think this was karma paying me a visit and reminding me that I will be punished for impure thoughts. Okay, okay, I hear you. The problem is, I know that apple turnover is out there. The challenge will be to deny its existence. The challenge will be to not answer it's call. Dammit, I'll see it on my callerid...I'll know it is the turnover...calling...begging...pleading. NO. I'm strong. It's the year of Angy Pony. Ponies don't eat apple turnovers. Not on my watch.
Feeling restless, I headed away from my desk looking for adventure. I put a $1.50 in my pocket...just in case I happened across a vending machine...just in case. I'm not saying I was heading straight for the vending machine, but I'm also not saying I wasn't.
Moments later, I was standing in front of the vending machine. This machine was not little black dress (LBD) compatible. What did I want? What did I need? Well, I needed nothing. I wasn't hungry. I was craving something. But what? I see they added some Kashi chips in there. Health food. Also some popcorn chips. Maybe I needed some peanut M&M's? Kind of healthy...protein and some chocolate. What about Red Vines? Nah, too sugary. Maybe the Gardetto's reduced sodium snack mix? Oh wait, if I really wanted to get my bang for my buck fifty, I should get the vanilla creme filled cookies. Nah, those make me sick. Reeces peanut butter cups? No. DAMMIT! I'm getting something. No, stop it, you don't need anything. This is not okay. Why are you here? What is wrong with you? Just as I was pondering all these things, down in the left hand corner in the bottom row, sitting there quietly, not flashy, but still noteworthy...is that really an apple turnover?!? My heart started to race, my saliva glands immediately started producing saliva you could see glistening in the corners of my mouth. This was going to taste so good...so right...I was going to practically make love to that apple turnover thing. I wanted it. I needed it. It wanted me. I know it did. It was plump in the package, bulging just a little. My word, it was ripe. I bet it was the kind of thing that you could sink your teeth into and apple ooze goes everywhere. I mean, it wasn't just a whimpy apple pie, it was pushing the limits of it's wrapper. I needed it. Bad.
And this is where the real showdown started. I was alone, just standing in front of the machine. Not close enough to touch it, but not so far as to not be able to get to the machine in a hurry. The lighting was just right. Not so bright as to make your presence obvious, but just the right amount of dim lighting so that people could stand in their own shame and purchase from the machine without detection or judgement from the outside world. My stomach was longing for that apple turnover and all of it's juicy deliciousness. I pulled the dollar bill from my pocket and straightened it, I smoothed it while I stared at the machine. I darted back to the popcorn chips, then the M&M's. This was wrong. I knew it, all my pony personalities knew it and this was certainly not an LBD approved activity. The air vent was blowing in such a way as a couple of strands of hair teased my cheek. You could almost hear the tune of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly playing. This was epic. That turnover had what I needed...love, sugar, dough, gooey filling and happiness. I didn't care if it was right. I wanted to be wrong. I didn't care who knew I was wrong (but I should still eat this in the dark corners of the basement or something). I didn't care about the LBD. Wait, yes I did. I did care. I do care. I couldn't do this. NO. Shut up bitches, I'm doing this. The tension mounted. I had been standing in front of the machine for what seemed like an hour. I couldn't decide. Why did this have to be so hard? Why did that apple turnover have to be in there pulsating with apple goodness? WHY? WHY? WHY? I was going to the gym this afternoon, it would be okay. I would work it off. Wait, how many calories are in that damn thing? Is it really worth it? Hell yeah, it's worth it? But, what if I ate it too fast and then it was gone and then it was over and then, there I was with stickiness dripping from my chin and I didn't have anymore money? No mo pie?! I started to panic. My eyes darted back and forth, my heart yearning.
And then, almost as quickly as it started, I said to myself, "What the hell is wrong with you? Get your ass out of here." And just like that, I holstered my dollar and left the vending machine room.
I got back to my desk, pulled out some apple slices from my pony lunch bag an ate a couple. Then realized, I wasn't really hungry. Go figure. I worked until it was time for Ass Kicker and went downstairs to see what he had in store for me. Apparently, what he had in store for me is called "Wall Balls." A 12 pound medicine ball that you squat with and then throw it up at the wall about 6 feet over your head. We did a whole circuit of stuff until sweat was pouring off my face. I said to him, "Do you hate me? Cuz, I hate your guts right now." And when I thought I couldn't do any more, it was time to do some boxing. When I left I was tired and dragging. It is by far the hardest workout I have done. I think this was karma paying me a visit and reminding me that I will be punished for impure thoughts. Okay, okay, I hear you. The problem is, I know that apple turnover is out there. The challenge will be to deny its existence. The challenge will be to not answer it's call. Dammit, I'll see it on my callerid...I'll know it is the turnover...calling...begging...pleading. NO. I'm strong. It's the year of Angy Pony. Ponies don't eat apple turnovers. Not on my watch.
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