Shame, Regret, and Reese's

I took a day off from writing. It happens. Sue me. You won't get anything except crippling debt. On a related note, that's why I do not fear identity theft. There are so many better identities to steal than mine. I mean seriously? You want to steal this debt, FICO score, and headache? Good luck! That's a lie. I'm Jewish and my wife is Chinese. We have a great FICO score. But fuck you, steal someone else's identity.

So what did I do for the nearly two days that I did not write? I watched movies, TV, and read a book. Little known fact. When I watch TV and movies, and the character ends up going underwater, I hold my breath. In fact, I hold my breath for as long as I can, until the character comes back up for air. Do you have any idea how much that sucks, when this happens on a TV show and they cut to commercial? Suddenly I went from holding my breath for a few minutes to passing out during a Domino's or Pizza Hut commercial. Next thing I know, I'm gasping for air and eating a large pizza by myself, with a heaping side of regret.

Another food that leads to regret? Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. You know the ones. They come out every Easter. Reese's tried to release the Christmas tree, but it ended up looking like a stool sample. Next thing you know, Reese's becomes an anti-body shaming company, talking about #AllTreesAreBeautiful and 'don't judge the shape of our deliciousness!'. And you know what? I don't judge the shape of their deliciousness. I judge myself for eating two whole bags in the course of 30 seconds. My wife thought I was lying when I said I would do it. She brought a bag home and I had those delicious sons of bitches in my belly before she could finish taking her shoes off.

Toward the second bag it was the, "I should really stop eating these..." followed by the *mmmnnmmmnnn* as I shove three into my mouth. Then it was the "I'm carb loading for heavy squats tomorrow..." followed by the *mmmnnmmmnnn* as I shove four more into my jowls. By the end it's the "don't look at me, I'm disgusting...."  followed by the *mmmnnmmmnnn* as I'm covered in the wrappers. Imagine a pornstar at the end of a large orgy scene, when they are covered shame and regret. That's me. I'm the pornstar. I'm satisfied, but I can't look myself in the mirror. All I can do is clean up afterwards and try to convince myself that it was worth it. Except, unlike the pornstar, I don't get a nice paycheck at the end. Just more self-loathing.