I'LL TELL YOU.
My slobby brother is spending some time here. He knew full well that I spent $15 on a soap because it helps with breaks-outs I have. (Did I tell you it is the size of your average half-dollar? Yeah.) He was been warned under the penalty of death, destruction and mayhem not to use this soap of soaps. In other words if I find out that the soap was used I would rip his face off and then feed it to the cats.
So today after receiving this soap a few days ago I went to go wash my face and found the soap...gone. Disappeared. Kaput. I know the cats haven't acquired the taste of soap yet. (Just bacon, cheese, cat litter, black socks, cardboard and cold tea so far. I haven't tested human flesh yet.) I do know he has just taken a shower. Lucky for him he is out and unlucky for me I am seething with rage.
Seething. Angry because he pulls this shit all the time. I know it's just soap but it was really expensive soap. My whole life I've had issues with him and this was the last straw. So, I'm mad and I found my self trolling the kitchen and I caught myself. I was mad at my brother but I wanted to shove food in my mouth. He wasn't there to yell at so I was prepared to take it out on myself.
It was like I was on autopilot. I was feeling intense emotions and like a robot I went to the fridge. I had the fridge open and I was rifling before I realized what I was doing. I can tell you for a fact if I had any of the crap I used to keep around it would have been in my face faster than you can say "She spent what on soap?".
I think everyone comforts themselves with food at some points in their lives. I mean there wouldn't be "comfort food" if we didn't but I took it to the extremes. In high school I had ordered candy from one of those fundraisers and I remember watching 90210 while eating the whole box and then a whole bag of Doritos. It wasn't a treat or something yummy...it was medicine. Medicine for a sad girl who got pepper sprayed that day for simply being fat. (I think the guy who did it is now a cop. Regardless, I don't think I have a problem throwing Sriracha in his eyes. I can't wait for the reunion!)
Well food isn't medicine. Thinking about it now I would have killed for an ice cream cone or four when I was angry but I thought it would make me feel worse in the end because I have worked really hard so I grabbed the closest dog and went running. Angry running is a whole different thing and I enjoyed it.
Turns out he thought it was hotel soap and he used the whole bar...on his feet. (You know no court in the US would fault me for maiming the boy.) He bought me a new bar but I think this whole situation taught me I am allowed to be angry and I don't need food to make me feel better.
(I'm still mad and now have decided to keep some Sriracha Rooster Sauce on hand for such occasions.)
(Photo Credit - Dermstore.com)
No comments:
Post a Comment