29 August 2011

Being Good

That could refer to so many things. Being good, I mean. And I know the answer to my next question, but I'm going to rant about it anyway.

Why is it that when I decide I'm going to “be good” in regards to going off of my see food diet (see it, eat it) cookies appear, chocolate throws itself at my feet and people start talking about bacon wrapped whatever?

The answer—cruel irony.

The same force of the universe that tosses all of the family obligations on the same weekend, sends rain when I leave my car windows down and refuses to cough up a recycle bin when I've got an aluminum can that I want to throw away.

What I did, precisely, to irk this bit of the universe is beyond me. I mean, it's not like I've gone around trying to send the balance of the cosmos askew by forcing angry people to listen to uplifting audio files about self esteem, or poking babies with pencils to make them cry in church. I even did something nice today.

Wait, maybe that's what happened.

No, that doesn't make sense. The irony has been lingering around me for years. This one act of niceness couldn't be the cause of all the times I wore a white shirt and been served spaghetti for dinner. Could it?

But I've digressed. Cruel irony. Being good. Yes, I've vowed to eat more healthy at least a dozen times since the beginning of the year. It usually lasts until 10am when our HR lady comes to work, opens her office and releases the chocolate. She's naughty. I'm trying to be good. Why would she sabotage me like that!?! What kind of HR person makes people feel bad about themselves? Why?

I've wronged the healthy gods at some point in my existence. I'm thinking that this injustice can never be repaired, and that I will go on being sabotaged from now until the day I die—not as healthy as I'd like, but certainly happy with the last bit of chocolate I ate.

I think I hear a cookie container being crinkled open in the next room. I go, responding to the call of ripping plastic and the smell of crunchy preservatives. Hello cruel irony, I've missed you.


Anthony Dutson said...

Hey, I'm eating all the chocolate and deep fried Chinese food I can so that karma doesn't send it your way. Unfortunately, my pants don't fit now, so I've been forced to release the flood gates.

It's every chocoholic for themselves!

Kristy Stewart said...

In my experience, you don't need pencils to make babies be disruptive in church. A few weird facial expressions will typically do. For discovering this as many times as I have, I deserve a whole lot of cruel irony.

It's too bad that you have a naughty HR lady. I hate when naughtiness is contagious.

Jordan said...

Is Tony saying that he's going to start running around naked? Sure seems like it. Sick.

-Jo- said...

The truth is that I smile at babies and they cry. No idea why.

And thanks for that visual, Jordan. I'm going to go wipe down my brain.

Antiquarian said...

It's not you Jo so don't worry. Chocolate is God's way of apologizing so just embrace it.

As too crying babies I blame the parents. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE pick your writhing kid up off the floor, don't let them run around like it's rompe-room, having your kid on the stand making faces while you give your talk is NOT appropriate, and when they cry TAKE THEM OUT! The world will not end if you miss part of some talk cuz you were too lazy to be a parent!!!! *FUMES* There's a reason I sit in the hall or better yet the RS room listening to sacrament instead of the chapel (of hell) And that's only when I work up what it takes to go.
LDS church as it is in my area is part of my personal definition of hell...hows that for a irony.