Might As Well Face It, I’m Addicted To… Everything.

Then, my superior confidence was shattered by none other than my very best friend.  She took a hardback copy of the 12 Steps, heaved it at my glass house, and sent me tumbling down the hill collecting glass shrapnel in my butt.  It happened when we were roommates.  I might have had a small, almost unmentionable “tendency” to eat chips and homemade salsa followed by a gob (or two) of Nestle refrigerated cookie dough as a meal.  For dinner.  For about 3 months straight.  Big deal.  What kind of a creepster pays attention to that sort of stuff anyway?  

Shortly after the chips/salsa/dough craving subsided, my nagging roommate (as I feel “bestie” is an inappropriate title for someone giving me such grief) pointed out that I’d been “awfully fond” of  hashbrown casserole for the past few weeks.  Seriously Meredith… get a life!  But, I realized maybe, just maybe, I might have a teensy, borderline addictive personality.  

When I was in high school, I’d wake up every day (no exaggeration) and guzzle 32 ounces of cherry Kool Aid while eating cold tuna noodle casserole for breakfast.  I can’t tell you how many batches of that crap I ate in a year.  I wouldn’t even get a bowl.  Just forked it straight out of the Corningware.  

In college, I took on a French Onion soup obsession.  I’d eat it everyday.  Sometimes twice.  Then, came Caesar salads, followed by mini sugar cookies with cream cheese icing, and then California rolls.  When I commit, I COMMIT.  

As an adult, I’ve continued to battle salsa.  Damn you, salsa.  In my next life, I want to be a corn chip.  I’ve also tangled with coffee creamer (yep, I could do without the actual coffee), s’mores, gravy – on everything, Hot Tamales, grilled cheese sandwiches, chocolate covered popcorn, and Chai Tea Lattes.  And Coke.  Don’t even GET me started on Coke.  Coke makes me happy.  FOUNTAIN Coke makes me euphoric.  I’m not your typical soda addict either.  I can easily down 12 Cokes a day.  It’s effortless.  In preparation for my short-lived wedding body, I did the unthinkable and took on Diet Coke.  So now, I down those like water.

I should be ashamed.  First, for living in a glass house.  Second, for damaging my body with ridiculous crap.  Notice in all my years of food addiction, never ONCE was I addicted to spinach.  If I’d tackle whole grains with the same ferocious commitment, I’d be one sexy mutha.  Damn you Meredith for making me introspective and damn you food for being so deliciously addictive.  I’m weak, like Robert Palmer.