Yes, you do. Because you read my blog religoulously. Right?.
Of course.
And you know around this time I start making plans, some very important ones.
*Note: For those who may have guessed 'what color I should paint my toenails for Nationals'...close! But that's actually second. Think more along the lines of Krispe Kreme, poprocks and poutine...
Yes. Exactly right.
WWPE Lives
The famed and storied "WWPE" list. AKA "What Will Perdita Eat". Where I start making plans for what kinds of caloric garbage I can shove down my pie hole (the word pie was used strategically here) in the six weeks that is my off season.
Now this has been a P tradition for many moons. It's what gets me through the summer season as I just sit by the window chewing asparagus. Or at the movie theatre when my date offers to buy a bucket of popcorn but instead I bust out my plastic carton of alfalfa sprouts. Booya Boy! Already got ya covered.
And when you're somewhere eating chocolate, I'm probably in Scandinavia chewing ice chips and sipping fat free water.
Do you get it?.
Right. This is sacred. WWPE is an event. It's a way of life. It's tradition.
No Pestilence. No War...
So imagine my horror tonight when I'm grabbing a bite with coach and the waitress puts my meal down in front of me. And as per usge endorphins start rushing through my brain. I'm giddy, I'm excited, I'm talkative. (No, even more so).
My food is here and nothing is wrong with the world. No pestilence. No war. And most important at this very moment: no famine.
I'm digging my fork deep into the food. Destroying it. I know, mad skills. Anyhoo, I don't really care what coach wants to talk about because I'm now running away at the jibs.
And guess what I'm talking about as I'm annihilating this hot food and simultaneously managing world hunger...one person at a time?!.
You know it: more food. I share/spew my "WWPE 2010" initiative with him.
But I don't look up. That's right still working.
Miraculously in between my shoveling, I manage to divulge more details about the WWPE initiative: 'Oh man I kill it...see me now? this is nothing...'. Talks of carbonated beverages, Garretts popcorn, Famous Dave's BBQ and sugar plums dance in my head and bounce off my lips.
Now I look up. My work is done here.
But I'm not quite feeling the look on dude's face. And I can tell it's been planted there the whole time.
Ohhhkaaay..?!. I think. Then quickly reassure him that I am going to share *ALL of my food with him.
*Except for the sour skittles. Mine. I don't never share those. Dem is my favs!.
No change on his face.
Then suddenly I recognize it's not about my greed. Phew. Because honestly I'm not planning to extend my eradication of hunger campaign to others at this time.
Coach asks if I plan to come back with some added body weight.
Me: Heck ya. That's my mission, Sir yes Sir!.
Do I realize how much more work the fall will take if I come back too out of shape.
Me: Word?.
You're turning 30 you have to start managing things differently than when you were younger
Me: Excuse you?. This is tradition. You can't fight tradition!.
You're not eating like that...you're not taking six weeks off...you get four...
Me (after his first syll-A-buhl): A sobbing heap of tears on top of the table.
****
I'm still inconsolable. So please don't email me food suggestions this year. Don't tip me off on who to order cakes from. Don't send me brownies. And mom please don't ask me to mentally place my favourite food items at the finish line, in hopes it will make me run faster to it!.
It's not a tradition, anymore. The tradition is over. Coach fought the tradition. And won.
Me: Boooo.....
Note: But If you have coupons for discounts on fresh sprouts and asparagus, I will take those.
Perdita
