My drunken addiction to McDonaldsANNA TURNER
I have a confession to make.
You're going to judge me, but I've just got to get it off my chest.
I have a drunken addiction to McDonalds.
Phew, I feel so much better to have that out in the open.
This week we ran a controversial story about two people speaking out about fattism and thinism. What better time, I thought, to discuss my out-of-control eating habits?
Every time I've been drinking, before going home, I am mysteriously drawn to those golden arches. I don't know what it is. When I'm sober, I don't even particularly like the taste of McDonalds.
The last three Saturday nights in a row I have ended up stuffing my face with McDs after a night of drinking. One time I even ordered twenty Chicken McNuggets (who knew they even made McNuggets in packs that big!?).
The woman behind the counter looked at me sideways but I resolutely sat outside on the step and gobbled them all down. Then I had a Big Mac.
Another time my order cost me $20. I woke up with a bloated tum thinking someone must have robbed my wallet on the way home. How ridiculous.
So, I made the executive decision to put it out in the open so that I could be publically shamed into stopping.
It's just one in a long line of secret addictions (well, not so secret now) that I harbour.
I have long been harassed for having to have my two Vs before I can function in the morning. People tell me the drinks will rot my teeth, give me cancer and/or a heart attack. I reckon I'm given more grief than smokers for my phenylalanine-filled treat.
Every week at the supermarket EK rolls his eyes as an eight-pack of V makes its way over the counter, adding $17 to our weekly grocery bill. I justify it by the fact I don't drink coffee (it seriously tastes like mud), but something happened the other day that compelled me to quit the habit.
There's a petrol station that I often pop into on the way to work to pick up supplies, including V. Last week, they greeted me by name and informed me they'd decided to start stocking V in bulk because I was such a great regular customer. Oh the shame ...
I'm not a teeny bopper off to a rage or a student studying all night for a test anymore. I think the sugar-free Vs have to go.
I think I may mentioned this one before. In first year uni they had jars of peanut butter at my hall of residence which I often used to steal and take to my room to eat while studying. Instead of spreading it on toast or in a sammy, I'd eat it with a spoon. Nuff said.
Although I've largely kicked the extra-crunchy from my life, the new Whittakers Peanut Butter Choc has been slowly creeping in. I've decided I'm going cold turkey.
Who's getting Suri in the divorce of the year? Is Miley Cyrus scarily slim? I know none of it really matters but I can't help following it anyway. Maybe it's a reaction to the fact I deal with breaking news all day - I need something deliciously mind-numbing to take my mind off it.
Whatever the reason, I waste far too much of my time keeping up on the goss when I could be spending it doing something more productive, like going to McDonalds Eaters Anonymous.
Go on. Chastise me into giving up my guilty habits. Call me a pig, call me disgusting. I need your abuse to make me stop.
But I think I'm not that unique. Everyone has a few secret addictions. Speaking to a few friends, I found they ranged from the minor - enjoying Justin Bieber's music - to the more serious - online shopping with several different credit cards.
So tell me, what's your secret addiction? (As long as it's PG!) Do you need to be shamed into stopping something?
- © Fairfax NZ News
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