11:16 PM

I throw the Ding Dongs in my basket full of goodies. I know I shouldn't buy them. I know I'll eat the whole box of chocolate covered goodness by myself in one or two sittings till I feel sick. I know they'll make my body feel crappy and my mind feel guilty the moment the last morsel is consumed. I know I'll be poisoning myself if I take this box of cake-like heaven home. I know buying Dings Dongs is not an act of love, but an act of punishment. Yet, I do it anyway.

It's a special night, my Evil Queen croons. You've had a stressful day and a hard year. A few Ding Dongs aren't going to hurt a thing. Besides, you deserve them. You deserve to be happy. And it's just for tonight. You can start eating healthy tomorrow.

I know better than to listen to my Dark Queen's words, but she's so damn persuasive. She convinces me she's fixing my problems, when she's actually complicating them. And my Evil Queen doesn't even care if she's fixing or complicating my life—she just wants to feel in control. I know I shouldn't listen to her. I know tomorrow I won't magically be a healthy eater without some sort of active intervention on my part. I know the Evil Bitch is lying. But I listen to her anyway.

This is the last time, Evil Queen. I mean it! This is the last time you trick me into eating one of your candied apples!

I snatch a bag of chips as I make the fat girl's walk of shame up to the cash register. Dumping my junk food on the conveyor belt, I smile at the punky clerk behind the counter. She's looks ready to party--her outfit accessorized with one of those mini top hats defying gravity on the side of her head. Clearly everyone in this town is excited and eager to celebrate the New Year--except me.

As Quirky Clerkie scans my merchandise, I glance up to see how much the Mega Millions Jackpot is. I don't care what people say, finding the Golden Ticket would solve most of my problems. Even if I can't buy happiness, I'd be able to rent it. Unhappy and rich is surely better than my current state of unhappy and poor. 

"Will this be all for you tonight?" Quirky asks, surveying my appearance and the food I've chosen to consume.

"I'd also like a Mega Millions ticket, please."

I used to pay two dollars for a lottery ticket to allow myself permission to dream big. Now I pay two dollars out of desperation hoping to win the Golden Ticket to a Cinderella life. Clearly my Serendipity Godmother is mari-Wonka-juana'ed somewhere. I can't depend on her anymore. It's time to wake up and smell reality. It's time to get rational and put my hopes and dreams in the hands of the Washington State Lottery. 

The cashier nods. "Would you like paper or plastic?"

"Paper please."

Quirky Clerkie puts my items in a paper bag, then walks over to the Lottery machine to make a ticket.

"I hope it's a Golden Ticket," she smiles, handing me the tiny piece of paper my entire future is depending on.

"Me too."

"Was there anything else I can get you this evening?"

"No. That's everything. Thank you. And Happy New Year." I wrestle with a driver's license that doesn't want to slide back into my wallet, then step out of the grocery store into an icy winter night.

I walk along a snow covered sidewalk reading colorful signs in several of the strip mall's store windows. Gremlin's Pets: Gizmos for all your furry friends. Bastian Books: Where stories never end. Wonka's Health & Nutrition: Give your body some oompa. Ruffle-Shuffle Laundromat: Clean enough for me. When I get to the end of the strip, I notice a beat up car with Kansas plates positioned at the edge of a nearly empty parking lot. A mother and her two children huddle inside the vehicle under a couple of old blankets.

My heart tightens for the Forgotten Family I noticed earlier that evening and I find myself wondering what made them flee their former address. Job loss? Fear? Searching for a new beginning? Searching for loved ones? There's probably a whirlwind of reasons for their meager travels. I can only begin to imagine what they must've overcome to get to the Emerald City.

My pondering is prematurely interrupted by a helpless noise coming from the middle of the intersection I'm about to cross. Straining my eyes to locate the source of the cries beneath the red glow of a street light, I eventually see movement in a groove of slush on the road. Soaked to the core, I discover a pair of frightened peepers. They belong to a dirty gray and white kitten fearfully crouching in the icy sludge.

"Kitten," I whisper, gently patting my thigh. "Come here kitten."

The ball of fur attempts to waddle in my direction—legs weak from malnutrition and frigid temperatures. As the whiskered critter struggles to pull itself through the snow, a car unexpectedly comes from nowhere and illuminates the kitten's trembling body. The furry baby freezes and stares into the blinding light of the oncoming vehicle. Helpless. Terrified. Paralyzed.

I'm paralyzed—a sudden flash flood of thoughts and fears disabling my brain. Where did that car come from? Why did I not hear the tires in the slush? What do I do? Rush into the road and scoop up the kitten like an action hero? No. Not enough time. Wave at the driver to make him stop? No. It's too dark on this corner to be seen. Holy shit, God! What do I do?

I SCREAM! Tears stream down my face as I shriek helplessly into the night. I can't watch. Dropping my bag of groceries and wallet on the sidewalk, I cover my face with my hands, so I don't have to witness the abandoned baby getting smashed. My head is pounding. Stomach flipping. I'm pretty sure I'll be hurling on the street corner in a matter of seconds. 

*********NACHO BREAK*********

Do you have an Evil Queen Voice inside convincing you it's okay to eat ice cream for dinner--EVERY NIGHT? If so, SHARE this story with your friends now so you can laugh about "Junk Food Justifications" at your next Ladies Night Out! 

MarilynHepburn.com