A Proud Moment

Today is a big day for me. A day wherein I did something of which I am tremendously proud: I ate spoiled cottage cheese.

Gone are the days of yore when I would anxiously throw out milk the night before its expiration date. I’ve said good-bye to wasting Perfectly Good Food on the trash can for fear of food poisioning. After today, I can no longer say I’m a freak about Possibly Tainted Food. Because I’m not; Today, I ate suspect cottage cheese.

The expiration date had yet to come, but I wasn’t sure when the package was opened. My old self, I called Chris to confirm that date. He said it was it was opened about 5 days ago. We buy the organic kind. Real Food spoils rapidly, you know. I suscpiciously eyed the little hand-dipped tub of tiny curds, trying to discern whether or not it was trustworthy. Cottage cheese is my friend, I told myself. He would never hurt you. And despite the fact that it was questionably old and had been sitting at room temperature for 2 hours, I ate it. And I enjoyed it. And, for once, I wouldn’t let myself be nervous about it.

The 5 hours that followed were blissful, peaceful hours. Sunny skies and smooth sailing. But shortly after lunch, just as the cold and dampness settled on the city and large back thunderclouds blackened the skies above my office, my stomach started gurgling. And burbling. And bubbling. And Sloshing. And all of those other unpleasant things that one’s GI tract does to tell one that Something Is Rotten in Demark, were Denmark one’s bowels and that Something cottage cheese.

I will spare you the sordid details and simply say that I had one hell of an afternoon. Thanks to the power of adrenaline, my discomfort subsided long enough to audition for a Comedy Central pilot about an automotive body shop. (The irony being that I’m the one who needs the tune up.)

For as much as I my insides are now grieving and as largely the thought of food currently makes me want to vomit--a thought that would normally send me on a tailspin, as any one of my 2 consistent readers/friends would know—I am proud of myself for taking that risk. Because the cottage cheese tasted real good and the product is that I feel empowered (if not empty and lightheaded).

This isn’t so bad after all. I survived today, I can survive tomorrow. With that having been said, the first thing I'm going to do when I get home is to throw out the rest of the offending cottage cheese.