These nuts tell me they are “extra fancy,” and that’s why I can’t stop eating them. It’s kind of like when Starbucks displays the calories of the Skinny Vanilla Latte right in front of my face; the Skinny Vanilla Latte stares at me while I wait in line. Then, I end up ordering one. Really, I want a regular vanilla latte with skim milk. I don’t like fake sugar. But, I order the Skinny because it makes me feel fancier, and maybe it makes me feel skinnier, too.
Last night I ate almost an entire little box of orange Tic-Tacs. They were delicious. Their makers want people to eat them because they are “less than two calories a serving.” I generally don’t think about the number of calories in my mint-like pick-me-ups—only in my lattes—but I still got kind of angry when I noticed that a serving is only one Tic-Tac. I think it would be better if they told me that each box contained less than 100 calories—that eating an entire box would equal one snack.
Math makes me nervous these days. I was thinking about that last night. I was staring at a second-story apartment I’d never noticed before. I pass by it daily; it’s over a store. I was trying to think about how people actually lived there: it seemed beyond organized. I wished I could have figured out what they were watching on television. Anyways, I kept walking, thinking about numbers and right and wrong answers. And then I thought about words and right and wrong answers.
This morning, I made my own coffee and grabbed another little box of Tic-Tacs from my secret stash.