Am fooding badly tonight.
…Post-rehearsal starvation is unbelievable. Our Miep was eating a beautiful Qdoba burrito, Peter was tossing back brownies…I sat while running lines, crocheting like a fucking maniac just to try keeping myself as side-tracked as possible. During break, I drank more tea, went pee, and started right back up where I had left off.
…Rehearsal is turning into the mega-challenge of fooding, possibly of all time.
Mr. Krahler is a frequent customer of the Southern Fried Chicken place next door. The Franks come straight from work, so are always unveiling new tupperware full of this’s and that’s…Mr. Director is a fan of sushi, someone keeps bringing in community muffins and breads, leaving them on the concessions counter, free for the taking. They have bins of chocolates, and redvines. Miep bought the brownies. Mr. Frank takes hot cocoa ‘tween breaks…and I sit there…with my fucking tumbler of plain Lipton’s bag tea, hating my life more, with each new smell, and food offer.
WHY?!
…I passed no less than 8 fast food light signs on the freeway on the way home tonight. Each one, a seperate stab in an already salted wound. Right now, I want grease and sauced meats and salt so bad, I can almost taste the smell of it, left over from that damn burrito. I want chocolate-dipped pastry and pie crusts baked with five pounds of butter. And pickles. And some peppered salami, with Tillamook sharp on a club cracker. I want the WORLD of every craving that has prob’ly ever been invented…and ten or twelve others besides,
…It’s actually, gnawing at me. Like a conscience-driven hunger.
…Compounded (no doubt) with double intensity as my hormones shift into PMS overdrive, so ramped…I feel like I could easily put my fist through a brick wall to get at a cream puff on the other side.
…And I don’t even LIKE cream puffs in real life!
It is only “desire.”
…Passionate…devastating…gnawing…painful…”desire.”
It is horrible.
…And the only way around it…
…Is to go to bed.
Now.
…And pull up something from Netflix onto my computer…
…Something TOTALLY distracting, and nothing AT ALL about “food” in any way.
…Like a National Geographic on Mummies or some shit.
…So that AT SOME POINT, I will mercilessly just fall asleep.
And forget I even have a stomach.
…Or human feelings.
…And taste buds.
I WANT!
Ohhhh I WANT!!!
…Ohhhh….
I cocking HATE you: BMI chart.
I really, really hate you.
For reals.
~D
