So, I’m a tiny bit partial to the odd slice of pizza – not thick doughy based bendy pizza, that isn’t my thing at all, I’m a thin and crispy girl all the way. It’s a rare treat though to be fair, it would never occur to me to order pizza in…if we’re having a takeaway it’ll usually be Chinese food. Pizza’s a bit brutal on the points budget so it’s not a great choice, but I spent the evening with friends on Friday night and that’s what everyone fancied so I threw myself into the spirit of things. Four slices, within points, enough to feel like I’d had a good innings at the pizza box and it was scrummy. All things being equal that should have been it for a while. Except I just ate it again last night for the second time in three days. But I swear, this time I only meant to sniff it.
Someone had put a late meeting in at work, five ’till half seven and it’s kind of an unwritten rule that if someone expects you to extend your working day into the evening, the least they can do is feed you. I did a quick risk assessment on the likelihood of being offered something worth having, but given that it’s generally nothing more exciting than half a dozen custard creams on a plate in the middle of the boardroom table – which is so wide that nobody can ever reach the plate without a very undignified bend and reach manoeuvre – I thought I’d be safe. And I was, until the pizza arrived.
Ten large pizzas…five of which were thin crust, and two of which were thin crust pepperoni. And they smelled amazing. It was six hours since I’d had my lunch, and it had been a really trying day…my defences were low m’lud…that’s why, when the asshole in my mind suggested I could go stand next to the pizza box and just, you know breathe in, it seemed like a great idea. I mean, no harm in that, right..? And I might have gotten away with it too if someone hadn’t handed me a plate, before staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to take a slice and move on, get out of his way.
What’s a girl to do? I could hardly say it’s ok, I’m just sniffing it…even I know that makes me sound like a freak. So I allowed myself to get carried along for the ride and before I knew it my jaws were moving and I was staring down at my plate which appeared to have a half eaten slice of pizza on it. I mean it’s not the biggest disaster in the world, since I can point it, and count it. Along with slice two and slice three, dammit. But the point is, I didn’t make a conscious choice to eat it…I just didn’t make a conscious choice not to. Eighteen big fat points on three slices of pizza. I am weak!
I lectured myself all the way home in the car. I was within my points budget for the day so it’s not that that I’m cross about. More that I had no intention of eating pizza at all…if you’d asked me at 3pm as I walked through reception, ignoring the pile of Ferrero Roche with ease whether I’d make a dodgy choice later on I’d have delivered a resounding no, I am strong! The offer of a muffin as I crossed our trading floor earlier had been met with a curled up nose and a polite no thanks. I’m hardcore! Apparently though, if you show me pizza and hand me a plate, I turn into a complete fanny. FFS!
No harm done…well aside from the fact that by the time I got home I was starving, with no daily points left. So I just had to have an early night and suck it up. Muppet.
