After years of restraint and conformity, I've finally bowed to my innermost desires and indulged myself in a raunchy, what-the-heck-was-I-thinking kind of way. I've talked to a number of friends, looking for comfort, who say they've done much worse after a night of drinking -- but this is SO random...so...out of character for me.
I'm thoroughly embarrassed and hope that by journaling here, I can better come to terms with who I have become and embrace my repressed cravings.
Alright already, here's my confession.
Friday night (read: EARLY Saturday morning) I arrived at the apartment after having spent a long (but fun) evening with the gang from work at an open bar function. I remember racing up the stairs, washing my face, and plunging into bed like one of the people in a Nestea commercial.
Waking with the usual long stretch, I roll over and cannot believe what I think I see through my early morning haze: last night's indiscretions, staring back at me, in the unforgiving daylight. Confused, I sit up and scan the apartment from my bed looking for clues as to what might have happened.
My jeans lay on the floor in the doorway, my boots still inside the legs. The rest of my outfit strewn across the floor. Smiling in disbelief, I bring my eyes back to the indisputable evidence of my weakness. There, on my nightstand, was an open can of Spaghettios with Franks, EMPTY except for the fork that leaned to one side.
I felt dirty.
Apparently, my craving for one of my childhood favorites (which I have restricted myself from for at least the last 10 years) got the best of me in a moment of impaired judgment. Those of you who know me well understand the magnitude of an event like this.
One can = 500 calories.
I still shudder when I think about it.
So caught up in the moment, I didn't bother to heat the Spaghettio's. I ravaged the treat straight from the can with a primal appetite. And I have to tell you, I don't regret it.
As these things go, I had to strip and wash the sheets; the tomato based sauce most certainly would have stained if not treated immediately.
And as I reflect - now - upon the evening and my weakness for the saucy delight, trying to make sense of this, why I did this to myself, how I could be so reckless and uninhibited...I've promised myself that I will never ever EVER again wait that long to be free and passionately indulgent again.
Mmm Mmmmmm Good! ;)