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Practice 14 September 2018

Posted by uggclogs in Life.

I’m practicing my writing sometimes, little vignettes that don’t mean anything and don’t necessarily go anywhere. Here’s an example.

I knew I shouldn’t, I really did not need the calories, and the slight chance of a migraine in the morning. I had been flat out all week – actually, make that all month, and I was standing in the little kitchenette at work, waiting for the lights on the coffee machine to stop flashing so I could make my first coffee of the day. I knew there was a distinct possibility I would be back for a number more as the hours dragged on, it was shaping up to being one of those days. I had stepped back from the machine to stand with my back in the sun – it was slowly starting to get warmer after quite a nasty winter, and the light flowing in through the window behind me was warm and yellow and cheery. I didn’t quite match the feeling of the light, but I appreciated it for trying.

I had been rounding my back to the warmth like a cat, trying to practice ‘mindfulness’ (all the rage at the moment and supposedly good for stressful moments) where I would breathe in deeply through my nose for four counts, feeling my lungs fill and open, then breathe out in a slow and purposeful way through my mouth. I had opened one eye mid-breath to check the little flashing lights when the colourful wrapping had caught my eye.

Large, joyful Lindor balls were sitting on the counter. A little yellow post-it note was declaring in all caps:

“FEEL FREE TO HAVE SOME!!” followed by a smiley-face.

It might as well have been screaming “EAT ME, EAT ME NOW!!”

Before I knew it, I had picked up a red one, and I was unwrapping it, watching the perfectly delicious brown chocolate underneath unfurl in my hand. And I knew full well in that moment if I had one, I would have more. And chocolate is a migraine trigger for me. So not only was I eating calories I did not want or need, but I would most likely have to call in sick tomorrow and stay at home with the curtains drawn, like a teenager after their very first BNS ball.

I was full of self-loathing as I placed the round ball in my mouth, feeling for the little indent on one side and the little protrusion on the other with my tongue as it dissolved. It melted over my tongue and down my gullet. In for a penny, in for a pound, and I soon had five differently coloured wrappers on the counter, chocolates devoured.

The little lights had stopped flashing, so I pressed the button next to the ‘macchiato’ setting, and watched my cup fill with deep dark, smoking coffee and milk. I quickly gathered up the wrappers, disgusted with my lack of self-control, and stuffed them into my pocket so no one would see them. I tried to rearrange the remaining chocolates to look more plentiful, but eventually had to resort to grabbing a smaller bowl. I transferred the post-it and placed the bigger bowl back in the cupboard.

I grabbed my cup of coffee and headed back to my desk, wondering if I was going to make it all the way through the day. I really did not have time for this, what on earth had I been thinking eating those chocolates? I don’t even like Lindor.


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