Who Doubled My Cheese?

There are things you miss only when they’re gone; and there are those you only remember when they have reintroduced themselves to you. I am talking about pizza.

I have forgotten how a normal pizza looks and tastes after being away from it for over two months. Now that’s an incredible statistic, knowing how, during my idle days, I would devour pizza as if it were Happy Peanuts or fish crackers. Yesterday, we rekindled the age-old romance … tripled stuffed. Did I miss it? Yes. Was I excited after I put the phone down and commenced waiting for someone to knock on the door? Definitely. Did I want to have it the next day? Er, no.

Surprisingly, I seem to have lost the drive to munch on the greasy junk I used to call my life. I had two theories as to why this happened. 1) It has lost the crunch to its crust to give way to the sausage, pepperoni and cheese stuffed within (which I hate, because I like crunchy pizza), and 2) It had too much cheese. Cheese in the body, cheese in the crust was enough for me to swear it off for, probably, another month.

Maybe it was the choice I made. Maybe I shouldn’t have plunged into a cheese-fest knowing that I hadn’t had it in months. Maybe I should have been more concerned with my tastebuds and aversion to grease. Maybe I should have agreed with Animator when he insisted that we have fried chicken for dinner, instead.

And so there it was; all the excitement and anticipated evaporated in a blink of an eye, all because I had not been thoroughly prepared to see my old love again. Pizza and I will have to endure long months before we reunite. Meanwhile, I gradually psych myself to get accustomed to cheese.

All these, ladies and gentlemen, sum up how we view life. (eh?)

At first I was afraid, to eat my picha pie....