Thursday, September 01, 2005

Office Kitchen, You Will Be The End of Me

troppo dolce The easy access to fresh and hot coffee is nice. But, taken together with the other office treats, that kitchen is just a den of gastronomical sin. In the morning, I gave in to a long-buried urge and indulged in a few (large) bites of overly sized, overly fried donuts splayed out on the table for all to enjoy. They made me happy, and I channeled Homer Simpson in my satisfaction of them. But then, they hit me like a wall. Maybe 10 minutes after the last bite, everything within me curdled as I experienced the nausea of too much sugar and oil. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but there's a reason why only children have the physical constitution to gorge truckloads of sweets. My body loves caffeine, and on occasion, even alcohol. But sugar and oil, stay back.

An afternoon task put me on the fabled LA Metro, and then I found myself in the catacombs on Hill Street that they call the court archives. When I came back, I was fiending for coffee. Wandered into the kitchen for my fix, and there they were. So great was my surprise, I cried aloud even though no one within earshot. "OREOS!"

They seemed like a good idea, especially with coffee. So I had one. But the consequences recalled the morning experience. And now, with the work day miserably winding down, all I have to show for it is having eaten too much play food.

I said to Obie, "One day, you can tell the story of how I came in here thin, and months later, became a blubbering slob."

He said, "It's going to take months?"

3 Comments:

At 6:30 PM, Blogger Owen said...

I agree. The office kitchen here is always stocked with candy bars. Plus, we have little bowls of jellybeans and gummy bears scattered in major walkways. I'm waiting for the day our bosses cook us into pies.

 
At 7:06 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hansel and Gretel is right. Expanding waistlines lead to less social life (they assume) and more time in the office. It's a conspiracy.

 
At 5:41 PM, Blogger AnywhereEden said...

I agree, it's a conspiracy. My break room at work is always stocked with cakes and pies, and the Pepsi machine has been jerry-rigged to spit out three or four at a time so we'll drink more, get wired, and work faster.

 

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