It’s November first and the world is choked. Mother
Nature is throwing fits worthy of a screaming toddler: heavy wind, pounding
surf, sporadic bouts of pouring rain—and then a rainbow appears as if to
apologize for the tantrum.
Ter comes home from the grocery store. “Boy, is
everyone out there cra-bee!” She’s been a little grouchy herself, on the
heels of bolting a Bucky’s “Frappula” yesterday. It tastes like a Viva Puff
mallow cookie and drops you like a drained corpse when the sugar high wears
off. I suspect that a few folks have indulged in the seasonal specialty this
weekend, and if they haven’t, the honking horns and crashing carts at the store
today must be the result of those “one for you, two for me” trips to the candy
bowl last night.
Then there’s the time change. Spring forward, fall
back. I got the saying right, this time, but it hasn’t stopped me from feeling
disoriented and easily annoyed … though the latter may be attributed to the
bowl of caramel/cheese popcorn I devoured with my chocolate tea yesterday
afternoon.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Because it’s fun, silly.
Last week, the office held a cake walk that turned
into a charity bake sale when no one else in the building turned up to play. I
looked at a table piled high with cake, cookies, muffins and more, and was
truly grateful that the only gluten-free item was the pineapple upside down
cake I’d contributed and had no desire to reclaim. Oops, but there were the
mountainous meringues donated by someone who had promised to bake but ran out
of time—I’m not a huge meringue fan, but these babies came with blueberry
whipped cream and one of my evil office fairies coerced me into splitting one
with her (for a good cause), hence the buzz in my ears that began last
Thursday.
As Nic would say, Blerg.
Tomorrow, everyone at work will be sick of candy and
bakery treats. This will not stop me from refilling the Vader bucket with the
last of the Rockets, treacle kisses, lollipops, jelly beans, tiny Mars and
Snickers bars that I bought to get us into the Halloween spirit. Neither will
it stop me from indulging if I get too stressed—it is the workplace,
after all.
I am advised that the Red Cups are back at Starbucks,
launched at opening time this morning to get us all into the holiday spirit and
onto insulin drips after New Year.
Buckle up, folks. ’Tis the season!
Blerg!
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