I packed a healthy lunch this morning of a banana, some granola, and a little carton of strawberry yogurt. I sat in the break room and ate it while reading the comics.

Misty was sitting with me at the table, talking to a girl who was one of the receptionists. I don’t know the receptionist personally, but I’ve seen her around. She’s cute, probably about 5’4, and was probably in a sorority if she went to college.

We have an ice cream machine in our break room that dispenses ice cream bars and other assorted frozen things, like burritos. After I finished my lunch, I got a Butterfinger ice cream bar because it sounded yummy. It was yummy. I sat back down to finish off the comics and enjoy my ice cream.

Misty picked up the wrapper from the ice cream off the table to check out the nutritional values and ingredient list since she’s allergic to some things and wanted to know if she could eat it. Receptionist girl then asked how many fat grams it had. Misty told her. I forget the exact amount, but it was around 10 or 15 grams. This isn’t a huge amount if you consider a healthy normal diet is 65 grams a day.

Receptionist girl then says,

OMIGOD! It would take me, like, a week to work that off!”

I gave her a dirty look and finished my ice cream. It was still yummy.

I thought about this for a little while during the afternoon, and wished I would have said something about her comment. I wish I could have asked her if she overanalyzes all the little pleasures of life, like a sunny day. Does she worry constantly about the possibility of sunburn, or does she step outside, take a deep breath, and enjoy the warmth on her face? Is it really worth the energy to worry about fat grams so much that you can’t enjoy an occasional ice cream bar?

I wish I would have told her,

”You only live once, so eat an ice cream bar.”

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