Will write for bad food

I don't know who told you, but the idea that all Americans are junk-food-freaks is severely overrated. In fact, I am will go as far as to state that many of them are health freaks extraordinaire. They eat balanced meals, make sure they get their servings of fruit and vegetables, work out, both aerobically and anaerobically, and shy away from sodas, fast food, and anything high in fructose corn syrup. And can I go even further and tell you that this very moment, I am sick to death of it?

I mean, here I am, sitting at my desk, trying to enjoy my lunch. I've just spent three hours teaching, and really want to eat something rewarding. And what am I munching on? Carrots. Indeed, baby carrots. I just polished off a fat-free yogurt, had two crackers with nothing on them, my raisins are on deck, and for a snack I've brought a banana and a tangerine. Yay. You know what I want? I would like some chips, lots of cheese...oooh..cheese, some fries, skittles, chicken tenders with honey mustard sauce, and really anything fried. But no, none of that is in my lunchbag. And that's not because I didn't want to bring it, but no, because we don't have any of that in our fridge. Because we too have bought into this health thing, and we are a healthy Dutch-American family. Sigh.

And while up until a few months ago, I could count on Steve or some of my other colleagues to share some of their chips or cookies or other less than healthy food, those days are over too. Apparently, my co-workers, or rather, their wives, have collectively decided to go healthy too. All Steve could offer me was a pear. Yesterday it was turnips. I kid you not. Turnips. Whatever happened to the pastries everyone used to bring to the office?

What makes this whole thing an ever bigger slap in the face is that tonight, when I get home, there will be no opportunity to hog the couch with a big bag of chips either. First, because we all the chips in our pantry got eaten over the weekend (may the record state it was not by me), and second, because I promised a friend I would go for a run with them. A run! I want a cheeseburger with a shake, not a run. And I know, I could just go to Steak and Shake and gratify my desire, but the health-kick that my world is on would make me feel so bad for doing that, it would not be worth it. It's so not fair.

And in the meantime, my raisins are gone, and I've just checked my purse, and there is not a dime in there I could use for the vending machine either. I feel bad for the students whose papers I'm about to grade. That's all I'm saying.