Friday, September 28, 2012

Addicted to ice cream

All I have to do is take one bite of ice cream, next morning I’ll wake up wanting more.  I go on ice cream runs that last months.  It might start with a single serving, a carton bought on sale, on impulse.  Within weeks I'm downing whole gallons of generic brands. 

As soon as I run out of ice cream, I start plotting ways to buy more.  As I'm licking the last slobberings out of a carton, I'm thinking, how can I get some Haagen-Dazs in the house fast. 

Wandering the streets looking for ice cream

I wake up in the middle of the night wondering if it would be safe to walk to the corner store, right then, at three in the morning, in Chicago, I'm thinking maybe it's okay for me to run out into the dark of night in the city, because I know there is ice cream at the corner store at the bottom of the hill. 

They have Snickers ice cream at the corner store.  I saw a woman buying some there yesterday afternoon.  I hadn’t obsessed about ice cream for more than a year, until I saw that woman buying Snickers ice cream in the corner store yesterday.

Now I'm thinking at three in the morning it would be okay to run down there and buy some myself.

Haven’t been able to stop thinking about Snickers ice cream since I saw her yesterday afternoon.   

Ice Cream Addicts Anonymous

If there were an Ice Cream 12-step program, I would call them now.  Instead I have to grit it out, hold onto the arms of my chair, and stop myself. 

Last time I went on an ice cream run, by the time it stopped I was about sixty pounds fatter.  That eating-to-self-destruct started innocently enough.  My daughter walked in the house saying she had a present for me and handed me a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.  It just happened to be a time when I was emotionally vulnerable. 

Next day I’d finished that carton and gone out to buy more.  

That run lasted two years.  It finally ended when I woke up with my head inside a cardboard carton dripping with the corn syrup-milk curd remains of a gallon of “peanut butter dream” I’d picked up at a gas station, wondering how could I have let this happen.  

It's been two years since that fat-filled morning. 

Now I'm in Chicago at three AM and I want to buy Snickers “ice cream product” at the convenience store at the bottom of the hill, and who knows where I might end up.

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