The Hunger

It's here, already. This year, however, I'm ready to talk about it.

As the fall-back time change approaches and the skies grow darker earlier, I become a ravenous beast - it has always been this way. Sure enough, this week I began to look forward to breakfast, eat lunch at 11:00 am, forage for snacks until 4:00 or so and then leave early for fear that I will soon begin gnawing on my own foot or that of a delicious co-worker.

This zombie/bear-like behavior - while appropriate for the Halloween spirit - inevitably comes on with a vengeance and usually evens out by Thanksgiving, before any real damage gets done. While I've never attempted to describe this crazy urge before, I now realize how biologically driven it is. As my hemisphere slips into the dark side so the folks in New Zealand can enjoy summer, the Heather Machine is pre-programmed for survival, baby.

Never mind that I could easily live off my standard year-round blubber for several months as it is, the H-Bod isn't interested in my opinion. Pondering this on the bus today, it hit me that my existence has two bosses: Me and Nature, with the latter fully empowered to supercede the former. It's like working for a boss who travels a lot and on those rare occasions they are in the office, they make a huge mess, rearrange your perfect system and are a general pain in the ass. You think you are in control, handling those day-to-day details with masterful ease and the next thing you know, he's crashed the server, lost the stapler and broken the coffee pot.

Not only had I previousy known this Truth but knew it well enough to teach it to someone else. Several years ago, I was driving through the Australian outback accompanied by a fidgety 25-year old Irish Catholic virgin with a sad case of Psoriasis. I think his name was Mark. Anyway, he was firm on his decision to not have sex until he was married because that is what the church told him to do. I could see that this outer-imposed rule was wreaking havoc on his innards. I also sensed doubt, and so I pounced.

"Mark, when you get sick, does your body care about your ruined weekend plans? When your hair grows long, does it bother to see what the latest syle is? When you think about naked girls do you think it cares about the rules of a book? It doesn't and you know why? The body has its own agenda! Fight it all you like but those fucking molecules will always win."

Mark was silent for several kilometers, chewing on this. I'm not sure if he ever got my point but I do know that I will be having some cake now, thankyouverymuch. Can't wait for breakfast . . . !


BUSTED WING UPDATE: I can touch the top of my head now! When I can pick my own nose, the first round's on me.