Cover It in Chocolate and a Miracle or Two

I’ve been eating like crazy for the past week. I mean, I’ve found myself totally full and completely physiologically sated after having eaten fruit, vegetables, nuts, eggs, meat—real whole foods, you know?—but walking myself directly to the vending machine to buy a Three Musketeers after I dismiss the kids.

I don’t even like Three Musketeers. Has there ever been a more boring candy bar?

But I just can’t help myself. My job is so stressful.

Tonight I found myself at an ersatz wedding reception, recreationally eating Peanut M&Ms. Well, I guess recreationally is the only way you can eat M&Ms. Unless you were that dude from “127 Hours” and your arm was caught under a boulder for a few days. Then if you had some M&Ms, you’d eat them for survival.

Not the point.

The point is, I was NOT hungry. I had already had my daily allotment of sugar (emphasis on lot). But I didn’t know that many people at the party. And so I just kept popping those little bastards in my mouth.

I simply must learn some alternate strategies to deal with uncomfortable emotions. That, or commit myself to an institution.

Sharp as a Marble

Let’s be honest, I’m not the brightest knife in the drawer. I mean, the sharpest bulb in the marquis marquee. I’m not the sharpest bulb in the Marquis de Sade.

I’m not the brightest bulb in the marquee. There it is. Or the sharpest knife in the drawer.

I got an herb-growing kit from one of my students for Christmas. I took it home, opened it up, and planted those seeds that moment. It was only after the little hockey pucks of soil had soaked up the water and the seeds were pressed carefully therein that I realized it was kinda cold for growing things, even inside.

But THEN I had a brilliant idea.

I made a greenhouse out of saran wrap. It worked! Those herbies were growing! Eventually, they were poking up against the saran wrap, so I took it off.

And they all died.

Ever hopeful, I bought my first basil plant of the season at the Farmers’ Market this morning. Call your bookie to place bets on how long it takes me to kill it.