Would You Look At That

Let's set the scene. The mundane training about the hazards of table salt and bleach has let out early with enough time to make a Taco Bell run. As you stare with your co-worker at the variety of options before you, you gravitate towards the Steak Taquitos option. They were a close runner-up in your last sojourn to this establishment and today you've got a hankering for their flavor. Your co-worker has already made his order and now you step to the attendant whose English improves with each successive customer. You confirm your order and look to her to say the words. Just as your tongue forms the sound you stop dead in your tracks to the realization that you have promised someone hours away from you that you have had your last piece of red meat for the month of April.

This is my life.

Last week, I insisted that Posh eat before she got on her ride back to Washington. As we ambled around we ended up in BBQ's, a barbecue chain in the city. I decided to gorge on what I had denied myself earlier in the day, a slab of ribs. Posh admonished me the whole time and it got worse when I admitted that I had red meat once a week. Too bad I thought that was good. So I only ate like 2/3 of the meal (cornbread was delicious), but I ended up in intestinal discomfort for the rest of the weekend. My mom threw out the food for me.

Even at work, I usually eat whatever they send for meals. Regularly it is some sort of beef product cause beef is just American and these slightly psychotic kids need all the artificial hormones they can get. And I usually eat it. But honestly I took one bite of the pot roast they sent this week and then I put it to the side. It was like there was a little Posh angel on my right shoulder telling me to put down the fork.

So now I long for the cheeseburger and I am already planning a celebratory oxtail feast when May finally comes around but for now my allegiance is totally to Posh and her wish to keep me healthy so that we have more time on Earth. What a novel idea.