Death By Old Cheesecake

I've mentioned before how Grandmother always buys way more food than she or we eat, so much, I mean a lot, of the stuff gets tossed out.

One time before she has bought not one, but two large cheesecakes. Like, 16-slice Sam's Club cheesecakes. I immediately took one to a food shelter. No fucking way we'd be able to finish that before the year.

But the last time she shopped at the warehouse club she got both angel food cake and another cheesecake. I hate the bland angel food cake, so I didn't even eat a crumb; after Grandmother tried to hack away at it, last week she decided to throw away the rest, about a quarter.

But for some reason, maybe because I felt kind of bad for giving away one whole cheesecake, I started hacking away at that. I like cheesecake. I just don't like it enough to eat 16 slices -- and because neither of my parents, or even Grandmother, wanted to eat it, it was left up to me.

These days seeing that would piss me off enough to just donate it. But again, I don't know, I started eating it, two slices at a time.

I started last week. I think the first time I started trying to finish this thing, I shit diarrhea the entire next day. But I kept plugging away.

With the end near this weekend, about five slices left, I finished with a guttonous flurry. Despite having fairly full dinners and not being hungry and knowing that eating just before bed is the worst thing you can do to keep the weight off, I ate two slices overnight Sunday, two overnight Monday, and the last one overnight tonight.

I feel really, really fat just typing this. The calories and fat from eating so much goddamn cheesecake the past few days as well as the past week is ... on my body, and it doesn't feel right. My urge to be slim is once again trumped by my need to not to waste food, helped by my eating binges.

Moreover, remember that Grandmother didn't buy this, like, two weeks ago. More like a month ago, and probably further back than that. I should've thrown it away on common sense. It was still in its original packaging, and when I opened it eat it, I made a point of not looking at the label lest I come across the sell-by date.

Also, the last three slices I ate didn't have mold or anything, but had these perceptible dimples in them. I tried to Google it, but it came up with nothing, so I thought that the worst I could get was feeling like I'm shitting my organs out. Say, that happened to me before; would that be, like, salmonella poisining, or is that, like, my lactose intolerance? Maybe I already have gotten sick from it and I didn't even know it?

Oh well, it's all gone, thank Buddha. But next thing I know, Grandmother bought another cheesecake. Because I like it so much. Ugh.