The New McNugget Diet

I need to lose a few pounds. Now, don't get the wrong idea, I'm not really noticeably fat, just a few pounds overweight (hey, cut me some slack, I live in the USA, the fattest nation in the world, where just breathing in the fast food aromas on the average street will cause your waist to expand), and with my shirt untucked, you can barely notice my bowl full of jelly. I actually look quite good for someone of my still relatively young age (maybe someday I'll post a photo; now, there's a good reason to keep reading this blog!).

Well, yesterday, when I got up for work (what other reason would I have for getting out of bed at a particular hour? I can't think of one, but if you want to eat, what are you gonna do-but no, hey, I don't really want to eat anymore...I wonder) I wasn't feeling too hungry, so, noticing an unopened carton of 1% milk in the fridge, with a soon to arrive expiration date printed on its side, I thought to myself, you better drink some of this before it goes bad, so I poured a tall glass. After I'd finished it in a couple of gulps, I realized that my love of cold, refreshing milk was not misplaced, so I poured another one (gotta use it before it goes bad, you know). Double refreshment! I was now ready for an eight hour shift of pure drudgery.

I wasn't planning on eating much while at work (and I don't say at lunch because nobody there seems to only eat during that designated half-hour), so, I only took with me a humble apple and orange, a can of diet soda (they have soda in a vending machine in the break room, but no diet caffeine free soda) and a dark chocolate bar imported from Belgium (the chocolate bar I took strictly for my health, as it's my belief that dark chocolate is not candy, got that, NOT candy, but a health food and natural medicine).

Work went fine for a few minutes, but then I began to feel uncomfortable, my insides churning, cramps and pain and intestinal distress settling in, an urgent need to run to the nearest restroom overtaking all other considerations. And that was pretty much my day. I don't tolerate large quantities of milk, especially any with more fat than fat-free milk (which, by the way, just happens to be all other milks). I can tolerate other beverages on an empty stomach with no problem, but milk gets me every time, and I'd had two glasses of the deadly white liquid!



At times the pain became very intense, and I wasn't sure I could make it through the entire day. After the early crew left for the day, I went to the break room for a Sprite, thinking it might help to settle things a bit, and there I ran into Antonio, who was getting bottled water for the room, as we were extremely busy and he thought everyone deserved some cold water. I mentioned I wasn't feeling well, bought my Sprite, and headed back to the torture chamber. The soda seemed to help just a little, but it wasn't enough, and when I finally took my second scheduled break, I remembered I had some peppermint tea in my car. I walked to the parking lot, got my tea, and went back to the break room to heat some water in the microwave. After the hot peppermint water was in my stomach, I actually started to feel better, and by the time my shift was over, I felt back to normal, and, I discovered, very hungry (I'd had nothing all day except the milk, not bothering to even try and eat an apple or an orange as I'd planned),  so hungry I couldn't concentrate. I didn't want to get something to eat though, and I resolved to just rest my stomach and get some sleep. 

In the car, driving, I continued to tell myself I shouldn't eat anything, that besides, I was attempting some sort of diet. Still, the lure of the drive-thru pulled at me, urging me to just get a little something to tide me over. No! I was resolved, I wouldn't do it! I was proud of myself as I drove, past Taco Bell, and KFC, and Jack In The Box, and Burger King. I was doing it, I was resisting, I had will power!  Then, up ahead, shining in the night, a giant M, also known as the Golden Arches, came into view. "Maybe just a small french fries or a few chicken McNuggets" went my thoughts. I pulled in, and there was no one ahead of me in the drive-thru line. I searched the menu for McNuggets and couldn't find them, then saw the ten piece and when the female voice came over the intercom, I ordered them with BBQ sauce. "Is that all?" the girl asked. "Yeah," I replied (they always seem irritated if you don't order more than one item). 

With my hot McNuggets on the seat beside me, the BBQ sauce hastily opened and dripping onto my new seat cover, I happily dipped and gobbled the little fried tidbits all the way home. I felt stuffed afterward, and somewhat gulity, but I now knew what I would do if I ever decided to end it all:

Just to be sure, if it ever comes to that, I think I'll order 10 party buckets, because if 500 McNuggets isn't enough to do the trick, then nothing can.