Another night and another birthday potluck at work. Damn, that makes it three for the month of February alone, and thank goodness, it’s a short month and it’s over! I hope that nobody has a birthday on the night shift in March so our veins and arteries can recover from the cholesterol onslaught they’ve been subjected to.
When I eat too much unhealthy food, I can feel the difference in my body. As if unhealthy food wasn’t a problem, we tend to eat more of it thus exacerbating the problem. No wonder I’m steadily gaining weight and struggling to rein it back in. These potlucks are becoming an exercise in gluttony. Too much food are being bought or brought. The taste buds in the mouth say “more, more” even when the stomach is saying “no mas, no mas”. Being the single person in the group, it is me who gets to take home the leftovers with permission from the other potluckers, and I’m good for the next few days without having to cook or buy anything. It’s hard to see food go to waste but I’ll have to start declining the offers to take them home.
It is time to put everybody’s collective feet down and agree that we would only do one potluck a month to celebrate everyone who has a birthday for that particular month. I’ll be the first one to volunteer my foot.
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