The Failed Lunch

I was not privileged with the satisfaction of walking downstairs to see a crisply folded brown bag made by my parents simply sitting on the kitchen counter just waiting to be picked up as I would be buzzing out the door. I was the girl who was always late to school because I waited until 7:28 AM, two minutes before I had to be on the road, to open my usually empty fridge and decide what to pack for lunch. Although it was not a very difficult task to complete, every morning I took a moment to decide what to pack. If you sat next to me at lunch this would come as a surprise to you, seeing that I would eat the exact same lunch every single day with an occasional minor change from strawberry yogurt to mango. Yet I still open the fridge and ask myself “hmm what should I eat for lunch today?”

I would put two thin slices of low fat Pepperidge Farm wheat bread, a hint of low fat Kraft Mayo, low fat sliced bologna (which is a whopping 25 calories I might add), finished with a single piece of iceberg lettuce that adds a little crunch to this seemingly satisfying sandwich. Coupled with my notably healthy sandwich is my low fat Yoplait yogurt. To spice up my boring lunch, sometimes I would take the yogurt with the iced fruit bits that give my teeth some entertainment, or I might take the Yoplait Whips which would lie like a blanket on my tongue and run smoothly down my throat.

I am quite aware that the phrase ‘low fat’ just threw up all over those past few sentences. This is due to my pathetic attempt of a diet, which by the way for a girl who has no self-control is not an easy task to attain. I would have the key to success captured within my flimsy brown paper bag, but that would easily get torn to shreds by the temptations of my weakest desires.

As I would get up to throw away my trash, I would slowly walk past the dessert line, stalking the double chocolate cupcake just staring at me like an owl mesmerized by a mouse before it makes its attack. Originally I would tell myself to not make eye contact, to keep walking or all bets are off. But the cupcake will scream my name until I make the slightest glace or smallest step in its direction because it knows its irresistible power over me and teases me with its deliciousness. Once this moment occurs, my flimsy brown paper bag enclosed with my so called key to success flies out the window as the feeling of tasting this divine dessert fills throughout my body and puts an unwanted smile on my face. As one can probably tell, it doesn’t take much persuasion to take a spot in line as I wait in suspense for the pleasure that this 350 calorie piece of dough and creamy icing with pointless sprinkles to sink in to my body and head straight for my thighs. As I bite into my heaven I will be in a daze of pure satisfaction in my mind for about 3 minutes before I take a second to realize how I crumbled the personal goals I set for myself. A feeling of regret and dissatisfaction would wash over me as I wish I had never let the cupcake flirt with me. I would start to think about tomorrow’s lunch and say to myself, “I’ll start my diet tomorrow.”