The One About Cheese
This morning as I stood in the dark, waiting for the bus, I had almost convinced myself that I didn’t hate it. Then there was a snafu getting on and a stoner kid sat on me. I’m not interested in elaborating on either story. But the net result was, I still hate it. Later the stoner kid, who was young and kinda cute in a Joseph Gordon-Levitt way, fell asleep on my shoulder. I pondered the inappropriateness of it but let it go. I mean, he’d already sat on me.
He woke up and was embarrassed and apologized. I told him he needed to go to bed earlier.
Last night we had about 10 new people at yoga. It’s unusual for that class to be packed to the rafters, except for the first two weeks in January, and it’s unusual for so many new people all on one night. We were chatting in the lobby and someone commented: “Wow, big class tonight,” and my teacher said, “Yeah, what the hell is going on in there?” I suggested that she make the class really hard and about halfway through when sweat was rolling down my sides and I was weeping while I tried to balance on what was left of my spaghetti legs, she came over to me and said, “How am I doing?”
Also my appetite is cracking me up because I feel like I’m hungry all the time and it’s always for something really specific: a tub of macaroni and cheese, a grilled cheese sandwich, a half-block of melted Tillamook with chips, crackers, pretzels or any other remotely similar product: English muffin bagel, heels of bread saved in the freezer for making croutons or bread crumbs. The magic ingredient is cheese.
A couple of weeks ago we were at a get together and someone was talking about how great Trader Joes Mac and Cheese is. She said they don’t have it anymore. I was at TJs and I spotted Mac and Cheese and grabbed a box. A man left his cart and hurried over to where I was standing and said, “I noticed you’ve got the Mac and Cheese. That’s the best Mac and Cheese I’ve ever had. We love it and they don’t always have it.” I went back for a second carton.
This weekend I decided to pop one into the microwave and you know how Homer Simpson eats like he’s shoveling in giant gobs of food as fast as he can? It was that good. Cheesy, buttery goodness. I made myself stop halfway through, whimpering. And saved the rest for Bob who agreed it was delicious. Now every time I’m hungry all I can think about is that Mac and Cheese.