Thursday, July 22, 2010
Boy, was I happy when I got to work today. Oh, not because I was eager to get started on the pile of stuff I have to do or because I was happy to see my coworkers – but because I’d woken up this morning thinking it was Wednesday…and then when I got here, I discovered it was actually Thursday! How often does that happen? No, wait – let me say it: not very.
No, for me, it’s usually the reverse. I wake up thinking it’s Saturday and I get to sleep in – only to shoot out of bed with the panicky realization that it’s actually Friday and unless I develop superpowers and can actually go airborne, I will be late for work.
So believe me, I was happy this morning.
Of course, by now the “Happy” on Jane’s Mood-O-Meter has worn off a little bit because, well, it’s still Thursday and I have to get through tomorrow before it actually IS Saturday and I get to sleep in. But I think I can hang on…
One thing that is helping is chocolate – as in M&Ms (the plain kind). Everyone knows that the one thing that helps in most any situation is chocolate. Well, except for maybe when sutures are required. Whenever bleeding is involved, chocolate isn’t necessarily the first thing that springs to mind as a solution.
Wait. I take that back. Sort of.
When I was a kid living in Michigan (sorry if that offends my more fanatical OSU friends…!), our house had a door in the basement where the top half could be latched to the wall while the bottom half of the door was able to freely swing back and forth. My brothers or I would sit on the bottom half while the other two would swing the door open and shut and we’d pretend we were riding horses.
One day I was apparently not firmly seated in the “saddle” because I took a tumble off my “horse” and landed face-first on the cement floor. I was stoic and brave, of course, and didn’t shed a single tear. Yeah, right. I wailed and cried and scared the crap out of my mother who came flying down the basement stairs to rescue me. As we were a 1-car family at the time, my mom had to call my dad to come home from work so they could take me to the hospital.
When my dad arrived, he handed me a bag of plain M&Ms in an apparent attempt to distract me. It was the first time I’d ever had an M&M – and certainly it was the first time that anyone gave me my very own bag of candy! And lemme tell you, his plan worked. Hey, what can I say? I was maybe 4 at the time. Bribing a 4-year-old ain't tough.
My wailing turned to sniffles and then the tears stopped altogether. Enough that they decided that I wasn’t hurt badly enough to warrant a trip to the ER. (Now that I think about it, hadn’t my RN of a mother ever heard of the term “concussion”? But who knows…maybe we didn’t have concussions back in the 60s.)
Anyway, ever since then, I’ve been in love with the candy that “melts in your mouth and not in your hand.” What’s not to love? They’re bright and colorful round pieces of Happy. We even gave personalized M&Ms as favors at our wedding last September!
So, yes, the chocolate I am currently ingesting to move my Mood-O-Meter back to “Happy” is M&Ms. The plain kind, of course. Unfortunately, it is only the “Fun Size” pack, which means there are only - let's see - exactly 19 M&Ms in the package. Hmmm…why not 20? That number would make sense. Wonder if this bag was shorted?
See…now I’m thinkin’ I should open another “Fun Size” package of plain M&Ms to count the number of candies in that bag. If there are 20, I might have to write a letter to those M&M guys.
Whoa! The second bag has only SEVENTEEN M&Ms in it! There is apparently no quality control over there at the M&Ms factory – either that or someone at the factory is eating the M&Ms inventory and gypping me out of my rightful share!
Uh oh. The Mood-O-Meter is flying past “Indignant” and quickly heading toward “Outraged”! That wasn’t supposed to happen!
Deep breath. Okay, I’m okay. I guess I’ll just have to console myself with the fact that by not getting those extra M&Ms, I won’t have to do another 12 minutes on the elliptical at the gym tonight.
And I will NOT be opening a third bag of “Fun Size” M&Ms to count them. Such strong willpower I have, eh?
Okay, I can’t lie. It’s mostly because we’re now out of “Fun Size” M&Ms.
(The Mood-O-Meter is now pointing to “Pouting.” Damn.)