Post Interview Stress Syndrome: This Situation Calls for 740 Empty Calories

Of course they liked me. They always do. But you can only coast through life so far on charm and cuteness.

These people also expected me to have skills that were relevant to the position. They are looking for someone who is proficient in a couple of programming languages I'm merely vaguely familiar with. I parried that by telling them I make a mean lasagne, and although they were impressed, or maybe just hungry, it didn't seem to give me any advantage.

Speaking of hungry, in all my excitement and pre-interview preparations I forgot to eat today. So round about the time my hour of uncomfortable questioning and inane small talk was over I was lucky to have made it through the parking lot back to my car without passing out.

There was only one thing for it. A number three extra value meal, aka quarter cheese and fries. With a diet soda, of course. I'm not some kind of pig after all.

Anyhoo... Would you excuse me for a moment? I feel a stress relieving rant coming on.

HEY MCDONALD'S!

Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want to see the complete nutrition information on your products? Huh? Did you?

Maybe I prefer binging and trying to create a state of denial, in which case it's way better not to know.

I realize that all of your food is crappy and bad for me. I do. That is why I don't visit your establishment for several months at a stretch. I save McDonald's for those special moments where I have come back from a very stressful job interview say, and realize that I haven't eaten anthing all day. Let's just say I'm suddenly starving and needing a huge junk food fix.

It's more of a rushed and guilty shame spiral kind of scenario than it is a caring about the foodstuffs I require nourish my body, which I sometimes willfully enjoy forgetting is a temple.

Do you see where this is leading? When I want to eat at your restaurant it is precisely because I want the opposite of healthy nutrients that will fuel my body and feed my soul. I eat there because momentarily I do not care that your cheap and salty delights are derived from corn products I can't pronounce and rat poison. I'm begging you with my $3.95 to give them to me. Give them to me now. Yeah, with a diet soda. Hurry.

I'm going to jam those golden salty fries into my mouth as fast as possible. Hopefully they'll be gone before I get home so that I can hide the evidence and pop in a breath mint in case my husband has decided to come home from work early. Yeah, I said guilt and shame motherfucker.

Maybe you should put the nutrition information next to the food on the drive thru menu so that I can make an informed decision before I order instead of putting it on the bottom of the box so that I don't see it until I turn it over to throw it in the trash - AFTER I'VE ALREADY EATEN IT. I just wanted a little guilt and shame not a fuckin' suicide attempt by cholesterol.

I said binge. Not purge.