The Guilt Worm's Appearance

One morning as I lazily strolled into my office complex trying my best to fake repentance for being late yet again, and trying even harder to appear as if in a hurry, I glanced drooling at the attractive display board of a french cafe that seemed to have opened recently. "La Boulangerie" I read aloud, in a fake and probably very incorrect french accent. And so that cafe became a delightful item on my to-do list.

I went there yesterday. A friend and I in fact. And I've been trying to lose weight. Thinking of that, I get the feeling I've been doing that since I was in my mother's womb. No. May be I'm wrong. May be I died fat in my previous birth. I'm still working on it. Mind you.

Ok. Detour. Apologies.

The stuff on display was so inviting. I did not care to think I was never going to achieve the feat of being able to see my

toes, without bending over. So we ordered. Not garishly. Just sensibly. One at a time till we reached satiety. And went right past that. I think I've got a rule in friendship. I only make friends with those who love food. We almost always catch up over food. And we never order diet cokes or salads.

When we finished I felt a little guilt worm tugging at my heart. And so did she (my friend I mean). But it did not matter. There was reason to celebrate ( and when there's no reason, we're eating cos we're depressed. It's a conspiracy if you did not note.)

The worm now has my whole heart in its claws. But i give myself time. Four days. I'm finally settling down. I 'm going to do something about the excess kilograms. And I certainly don't want this to be my dying wish.