I didn’t get away from the office yesterday until later than normal, for no other reason than I was really busy and on a roll with the piece of work I was absorbed in. All in all it was a good day, made even better by the fact that in the early afternoon I’d taken myself out of the office for half an hour, to get a breath of fresh air and make a quick trip up to an amazing farm shop near where we work.
When I eventually got away, I’d expected the traffic to be fairly light, given that it was past peak time but someone had had a fender bender on the motorway, and it was backed up for miles so I had no choice but to crawl along at virtually no miles an hour for a big portion of the journey. One and three-quarter hours to be precise…accompanied by a bag full of goodies from the farm shop on the seat beside me. Oh dear…you can probably predict where this is going, right?
I wasn’t hungry, not really…I’d chomped my way through an apple with organic peanut butter and a whole bunch of grapes in the afternoon, so my belly wasn’t demanding to be fed. However, the Asshole voice looked at the clock as we inched nose to tail on our slow journey homewards and decided that since it was fast approaching the time I would normally eat, I’d better have a good root around in the bag of goodies in order to avert disaster – I mean I was in very real danger of actually getting a hunger pang.
I’d left some stuff in the office for later in the week, so there was no fruit to hand. There was a pack of venison and some handmade sausages which I had to rule out for obvious reasons, and then I struck gold. I’d bought a box of artisan crisp breads, which looked amazing and better yet, I’d pointed them up in the shop and they were only one smart point each. Result!
It became obvious halfway through the first one that they would definitely work better with something. No shit, right? They’re crisp breads, and it’s kind of in the job description to be the support act and not the main event. I mean they really looked the part, they were a bit wonky, as you’d expect artisan products to be…a lovely golden colour and really thin and crunchy. The only drawback was that they tasted like MDF, which, to be fair most crisp breads would without the benefit of something on top.
But I didn’t have a topping, so I persevered ‘cos I’m hardcore, egged on by my Asshole voice who kept reminding me that they were only one point each and how lovely and crunchy they were. Three crisp breads later it was starting to feel like the cream cracker challenge. I was desperate for a drink, my tongue felt about four times too big for the size of my mouth and I had a mouthful of sawdust which didn’t seem to be getting any nearer to being swallowed.
It took about half an hour before I was able to breathe without spraying the dashboard with a fine layer of dust. When I walked into the house I fell on the tap like a man who’d just crossed the sahara without a water bottle, much to the consternation of Charlie dog, who’s used to his cuddles being first in the pecking order of just-home activity.
Note to self…nobody dies from a single hunger pang. Next time the Asshole voice pulls a stunt like that remind him that your life is not in danger if you eat a little later than is normal.
In case you’re wondering, I ate tuna with a little cracked black pepper and garlic mayo at lunchtime on the very same crisp breads, and I can confirm they were every bit as delicious as I’d hoped they might be once they’d stopped being emergency food 🙂
ps…today was an exciting day – I finally received the link to set up my fundraising page for the trek to Cuba in October, which I’m doing to raise money in memory of my dad. You can read his story HERE and I would be so grateful if you’d help me honour his memory by donating whatever you can afford so together we can make a difference and help other people through mental illness. Thank you 🙂
