3:17 AM With Cookies
Zero Hour. 3 AM.
Must be up for school by 11—this is inconsequential; I woke up at 3 in the afternoon. No matter. Sleep will come in due time, and it will be enough.
But this hunger.
I don’t understand it, really. This strange sense—that I know exactly how long it will take to fall asleep and exactly what I must do to reach that point.
I must drink one more can of Mountain Dew.
And I must eat something.
The craving will not die, but no matter how I search, I can’t find the correct object. It’s all too much—big snacks that I use as excuses for meals in the day and early night. Not fit for a stomach on its way to bed.
But what would I eat that’s so small? I make a point not to buy minuscule snack things, as they do nothing for me. But the family—they eat snacks. There should be something.
No chips. Damn.
Nothing…
Except for those Chewy Chip’s Ahoy cookies.
This will have to do. I take five in hand and stumble back upstairs.
The cookies are miniature, and there are too many chocolate chips clustered in each one. My tooth for chocolate died early in my childhood. If only they ate sugar cookies… but these will have to do.
The taste of chocolate clinging to my teeth doesn’t mix well with the Mountain Dew. I have to wait for the taste of chocolate to fade before I drink. Even as my stomach and brain are appreciative, my mouth is full of regret.
I want to eat them slowly, but the hunger and desire to sleep before it gets too late compel me. After three tiny cookies, I’m already sick of the taste of chocolate. My stomach is already abated, and my mouth is crying “NO MAS! NO MAS!”
The last two cookies glare at me menacingly. I can’t bring myself to eat them. I regret the decision to take five.
This, too, was a mistake of my youth.
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