I feel like posting something “non political.” I feel like writing about addictions.
But not dangerous addictions. This is a post about non-life-threatening compulsions.
Don’t most of us have them if we’re being honest?
Years ago I was chatting with a person (who may or may not be a contributor here on RedState.) During our talk she confessed to me that she was addicted to buying shoes.
She was (in her words) a shoe-aholic. She joked that if she didn’t reign in her obsession soon she would be sitting on a street corner, begging.
I just counted and I have eight pairs of shoes total. Two sets of boots, 3 dress shoes, two pairs of sneakers, and some sandals that I should have thrown out years ago.
So shoes are not my addiction.
But as long as I’m confessing–my compulsion is fritos. (Or should that be “are fritos?”)
My husband doesn’t understand why I buy the smallest package possible.
He will patiently point out as we stand in the snack aisle, “look dear, if we buy this bigger one it’s a much better deal!”
But I know if we purchase the bigger bag I will devour the contents as quickly as a smaller one and feel guilty about it.
As soon as I put away the chips in the pantry they start calling my name.
“We’re here! Come consume us! The salty, corny goodness you remember from school lunch bags is just waiting for you!”
Each time I bring a larger bag of fritos into my house I experience the hope that “this time” I will find the will power to open the bag, pour out an acceptable amount of snacks to munch, and then leave them alone.
But it never works out that way.
The fritos continue to call me out.
Mocking me.
Luring me.
Until I grab whatever sized bag we got at the store, run to the hall coat closet, huddle at the bottom with the door closed, and consume the entire stash.
Surprisingly, this experience of confessing my fritos abuse has been oddly cathartic.
So I’m glad I confided to you, my readers, or will be until someone greets me with, “oh. You’re that frito-freak-junkie I read about on RedState.”
If you wish, you can acknowledge your addiction in the comments.
And maybe, if your dependency is humorous enough I’ll illustrate it and insert it right here!
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