The past few months, since I've been cooking for myself, I haven't eaten gargantuan portions of anything. There's been a curb to getting pieces of apple cake over and over again and then telling people they can't really split the cake with me as we had previously agreed upon because I have decided to eat it all myself because it was that good. I mean, I still eat a lot. I still eat unhealthily. But I'd at least like to pretend that I'm slightly better about it and have shed some bad eating habits. Thursday night, on the way to watching a movie, I stopped in a store to grab some chips and candies, because well, you can't have a movie without junk food. Weird thing was, I had no desire to eat chips. Not even Pringles. None whatsoever. So I picked up a samosa and pakora instead, because deep fried vegetables and meat are totally the healthier alternative (they're readily available at most convenience stores here, "fastfood you can find everywhere, like our hotdogs!" Lauren said). Friday, because of a messed up eating schedule, didn't eat much and didn't feel like I missed food too much. Huh, I thought, could this be the end of my gluttonous days?
No. Went to an Indian buffet for lunch yesterday and proved that over and over and over again. Only 2.5 plates, yes, but 2.5 really, really packed plates. And I still felt like I could eat some more after the last plate, and sort of wanted to, but politely abstained because I didn't feel like outeating Lauren by too much. And it was awkward that she had to keep waiting for me as I ate and ate and ate. She was done after one plate of sensible portions. Obviously, the girl didn't know how to get her money's worth.
There you have it, reader. Every few months, I have an entry along these longs and a monster lying dormant reawakens with greed, demanding sacrifices I cannot bring fast enough. Who know how long the battle to satisfy and appease the monster will rage this time? All I know now is I'm hungry and I better eat.
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