Sunday, April 17, 2005

The truth was in the thighs

I figured rather than bore all of you with mindless rants of my anxiety ridden pregnancy I would humor you with one of my classic stories. Typically these stories are told near the end of the work day when I become delirious and my co-worker typically is on the same route I am so we laugh hysterically together. I totally realize that this would be better in person, but again, anxiety ridden pregnancy is getting old, just admit won't hurt my feelings. Anyways, this story will have a point eventually, just hold out for it.

When I graduated from college I couldn't find a job to save my life. I did a stint at a Drug Rehab program (not as a patient but a counselor so were all clear), and although I found walking through South East D.C. comical, it didn't pay enough for me to buy a gun. So, I decided to move up in the world and work with Kelly Temp Services. My first Temp job was with a D.O.D. contract company and all you need to know about that is it was the only job that I began sobbing at due to boredom...and really, I did sob, I am not just saying that for ratings here. I should also point out that this is when Heather and I reconnected. During lunch breaks I would drive up to FCS and beg her for some books to read...she took pity on me and became my friend which would ultimately be the begin of her demise further down the road. Anyways, I basically got fired from that job. Very humiliating and the only job to date I've got fired from. But that brings me to the site of my story. After my firing I called Kelly Services back and begged for a new job and promised that I would never talk about my supervisor behind her back ever again, I would only degrade her to her face. They believed me and shipped me to US Airways where I was now not only a Temp but a Temp to hire! The job was great, the location was less drug infested and more rich business types and there was a Chipotle right there in the building...what could be better than that? Slowly I made myself at home there and fell into a pretty nice morning routine. I would pick the Metro up at Franconia/Springfield (Blue line to be exact) and enjoy the nice 1/2 hour ride and get off at Crystal City where I would then walk a half mile to the office. I check in, drop off my stuff , do the typical shoe swap and meander down to get my coffee and donut at this nice Indian man's store. Every morning, same thing: Flavored Seattle's Best Coffee with a Powder Chocolate filled donut. I would make my way back to my cubicle and meticulously cut my donut into fourth's making sure to evenly divide the chocolate on each piece. I would then devour my sweet donut and sip my warm coffee. I did this routine every day for 2 months. It worked, it was nice, it was my "Good Morning Emily" routine. Well, it was until one weekend, late August, it was unseasonably cold for the D.C. area. I, being the good Christian girl, headed out to church with a pair of jeans on that I had not worn since the summer began. I get to church to enjoy the service and before the pastor could get a prayer out of his mouth the most unbelievable thing happens to me. This has never happened to me in the course of my adult life mind you. I sit down, cross my legs and get all comfy for the service when out of nowhere my zipper to my favorite jeans that fit only 3 months back unzips. Not just a little, were talking full 'zzzzziiiippp" from top to bottom. I am horrified. I don't even hear the sermon because all I can do is zip and re-zip for 45 minutes. How did this happen? I've never gained weight like this? What on earth did I do to gain so much weight that my poor zipper refuses to stay up? Immediately following the service I make an emergency call to Derek (who at the time was in NY as we were still engaged) and tell him about my dilemma.

"Well Em, you have been eating a donut for breakfast every morning for the past 2 months"

That's what he says, that's his only response to his frantic fiances cry for help. Donuts are bad for you? Of course they are he tells me...and then he informs me of how much fat they have in them and how it's enough for your daily fat one stinkin donut and I've been having one a day along with Chipotle taco for lunch, exceeding my fat intake for 5 years!! And it is at that moment I ask him why on earth he didn't think about telling me all of this 2 months ago?

Hmmm...he thought I knew. I didn't know. I had not one inkling that Donuts were bad for's a dirty little secret no one shared with my except for the cold day in August that my thighs were forced to tell me the truth. I tell you my friend, your thighs never lie.

Derek forgets many of my stories. I reminded him of this particular story while we both were bored at work one day. He likes to call me from work to hear my stories. I guess you can imagine what kind of days he's having? Well, this morning, my dear husband, after running an errand returns with, in hand the one thing I have sworn off since bangs....a powdered chocolate filled donut. And he smiles as he watches me cut it into fourths and spread the chocolate evenly on each piece and lovely he says "It's okay Em, one won't make you fat, now one a day for 2 months will though".

And that my dear friends is love.

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