An Open Letter to Cereal
Dear Cereal,
I have been a devout eater of you for years and I have not had a complaint. I remember flinging Cheerio's at my mom in the chapel at church as a toddler. I remember the excitement of pushing boxes off the shelf at the grocery store. I remember my brother and I being determined to find the toy in your boxes. In college do you remember when I was so poor all I could eat was peanut butter and cereal? That was FUN. I loved crying myself to sleep!
I know the past year we've experienced a growing apart. I eat my breakfast before I go to work, usually hurried in a parking lot. Let's not gloss over these details. I have as much class as a Craigslist prostitute.
I HAVE CEREAL.
So cereal: We are on hiatus. I can't do this anymore! I ALREADY USED UP MY PEPTO ASSHOLE!
Give me a few months to recuperate. This hit me below the belt. I don't know if that saying holds water, because I have a vagina, but the meaning still stands.
I have been a devout eater of you for years and I have not had a complaint. I remember flinging Cheerio's at my mom in the chapel at church as a toddler. I remember the excitement of pushing boxes off the shelf at the grocery store. I remember my brother and I being determined to find the toy in your boxes. In college do you remember when I was so poor all I could eat was peanut butter and cereal? That was FUN. I loved crying myself to sleep!
I know the past year we've experienced a growing apart. I eat my breakfast before I go to work, usually hurried in a parking lot. Let's not gloss over these details. I have as much class as a Craigslist prostitute.
So I was out buying supplies for my spoiled guinea pigs yesterday and I saw CEREAL. And I was like, well you know maybe it's better if I start having breakfast at home again (you have no idea how much I like protein bars. It helps with my weight-training you know).
There was this box of a variant of Cinnamon Toast Crunch I could not pass up. I have many warm memories of eating that. Except when I put too much milk in it and it got all soggy. Gross.
It was like 300 degrees yesterday and I had been out in the sun for a while so I don't know if my brain was working. I went to buy my stuff and could not find my debit card. Oh gosh that was humiliating! I had to have all my things voided and then they took my toothpaste so I have to go buy toothpaste again today. Rad!
Flash forward to this morning: I was like "I'm up early" (4 a.m.) "do I have money for the vending machine?" (no, you are a moron) then this light bulb just went off in my head-
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| derr derr derr |
So I go get the cereal. I pour a bowl of cereal, no milk because I don't really do groceries (I know, when the end days a la Survivalists comes I am soooooo dead) I have a spoonful of this cereal. I'm so happy because I know it's going to be AWESOME, like Spring Break 1992.
Hell NO. My tongue has a stroke and my stomach immediately closes itself off with a siren screaming "INTRUDER ALERT, INTRUDER ALERT."
I put the bowl down; look at the guinea pigs (Smores is staring at me).
"That is shit." I tell her. Which means nothing because she eats poo all the time.
I went back to sleep. I've actually slept a lot today, which is weird for me. I'm a pretty active girl most days. When I awoke again, I talked to my girlfriend and decided to give the cereal another go. Why? Because I'm a masochist. I like the pain.
I eat half the bowl and then I throw it in the garbage. Then, I walk outside with the cereal box and toss it in the dumpster. Some things just deserve to be given up on.
Give me a few months to recuperate. This hit me below the belt. I don't know if that saying holds water, because I have a vagina, but the meaning still stands.
#truth2013
NO LOVE,
B. Kemp
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