Guys, you may not want to read this one.
I’m going super girly today.
Girls, you know what I’m talking about when I talk about “The Hunger”, right?
I’m talking about that super specific, irrational craving you get either when you’re menstruating or pregnant. It can also happen when you’re on “I’m going on 14 hours without a break” mode, but we’re not going to focus on that today. We’re just going to focus on angry beast The Hunger turns you into.
As you all know, I’ve been trying to lose weight for the last couple of months and so far I’ve been doing well. I’ve lost fourteen pounds and now my backside doesn’t look like an 18 wheeler. My arms are also taking on a nice shape so I don’t look like I’m wearing a cape when I spread my arms to give someone a hug.
That always depressed me so…
In order to lose weight, I’ve had to combat The Hunger when it struck every month. My Hunger is usually for something greasy and deep-fried. Something that will clog an artery or cause me to have to roll off the couch rather than get up from it. I’ve Hungered for sweet potato fries with ketchup and ramen noodles. I’ve Hungered for McDonald’s hashbrowns at 2am. Once I even Hungered for a Fuji apple cut into slices covered in whipped Almond butter.
The Hunger is über specific and it cannot be satiated by substitutes.
Also, The Hunger is not a friend to diets.
Now that my schedule is crazy with school, work, and other work, I’ve had a hard time combating The Hunger. I want to be strong, when I’m going on 20 hours with no sleep, I want to curl up inside the nearest donut and stay there for eternity.
Yesterday was one of those days.
The Hunger hit me at 9am and The Hunger wanted one thing: cheesecake.
Not any type of cheesecake.
The Hunger wanted Cheesecake Factory cheesecake.
There was Cheesecake Factory cheesecake in the fridge at home.
It was 9am.
I don’t get home until 11pm on Mondays.
The entire day my answer to every question was, “Cheesecake.”
“How is the transition in this paper?”
“Did I use a semicolon correctly?”
“Um, cheesecake, cheesecake.”
“I don’t think my thesis is very strong. How can I improve it?”
“Cheesecake, cheesecake, cheesecake, counterarguments, cheesecake.”
In class, everyone looked like cheesecake. I looked like cheesecake. It took everything I had in me NOT to start licking my arm for sustenance. Thankfully, my professor let us out early so I hopped on my menstrual cycle and Wicked Witch of the Wested it home.
I got home at 10:30 and without so much as a word to a drowsy He-Man, I opened the fridge to find the cheesecake.
I could not find the cheesecake.
I began a frantic search for the cheesecake.
Someone had eaten the cheesecake.
I considered licking the empty bowl sitting in the sink.
My Hunger could not satiated, but I still needed to eat something.
I had to settle for strawberry cream cheese on white bread.
It’s not half bad.
Mingle it with tears of despair and it almost tastes like cheesecake.