Aselin

As I stare down the chocolate doughnut left over from yesterday’s Boy Scout meeting I’m trying to figure out why this evil, simpleminded, fried blob holds such enticement over me. It’s from WalMart, as doughnuts go, it’s not gonna taste that good. It’s old, leftover from yesterday. I know I’m not gonna feel that great after I eat it, and yet, like some siren out of the Odyssey it calls to me.

I’ve tried to ignore it. Busying myself with more productive endeavors. Organizing the fridge - throwing away the baggie of slick, black, rotten cilantro does nothing to sell the rest of the fridge’s contents. I eat a yogurt. With all the press yogurt has been getting lately you’d think after eating yogurt I could singlehandedly negotiate Middle East peace, solve the economic crisis and develop a force field against the spell of the doughnut. Apparently all I will be able to do is poop.

I move to the laundry room. Tackling my nemesis will clearly be more fulfilling than eating the doughnut. The fresh scent of fabric softener perks me up. Sorting the whites from the darks I reminisce on how good the dark chocolate glaze looked against the white of the golden cake. I’ve named the doughnut Earl.

Enough of this. I march to the kitchen, scoop up the box and dump the whole thing in the trash. Triumphantly striding back to the laundry room I bask in my self-disciplined glory. I am victorious! I am the Master of my Domain.

This phrase reminds me of an inappropriately funny Seinfeld episode about self control. Which reminds me of another Seinfeld episode... the one where George ate the partially eaten chocolate eclair out of the garbage. Earl looked a little like the eclair. George didn’t die. That was from licking envelopes. Garbage is a whole different genre...and Earl is still safely ensconced in the box.

I often wonder if in the afterlife we will have our lives replayed to us on a huge Panasonic flat-screen. Maybe God and I will share a tub of popcorn while watching me eat my friend Earl out of the garbage. Not one of my more shining moments, and I can’t promise it won’t have an encore.