Tuesday, May 30, 2006

sugar and bitter pills

Try to convey the fact that I'm one of those ladies who knows better than to believe a myth, and yet there I was last Thursday, payday, standing in a chemist, like a child in a sweet store with her pocket money.

Fiddled through sparkly things, and makeup of varying qualities, even looked at an odd pair of shoes that every madser in Dublin is currently wearing, apparently they make you walk with the gait of a Masai warrior and thus improve your posture. Never mind that I've not seen a Masai wearing shoes of this nature.

But am I one to talk? Hardly, given that I coughed up over ten euro on a package of 'slimming tablets'. Made from a herbal tincture, apparently.

Well, I don't know what it was, but I was compelled to buy them. At home, I looked at the packaging and read the small print. Nowhere does it say how they'll actually work. I popped one, no effect, two, no effect. Three, I felt a little peckish. Then I forgot.

A moment of panic when shrieking with laughter about a teenager I know who succumbed to the lav after knocking back three packets of some mint 'clear your breath' sweetie whose packaging had in small writing 'may produce laxative effects'. Then I realised I hadn't graced the toilet in awhile.

Here I am, days later, still maintaining adequate padding, still swallowing the pills when I remember.

Checked comments online. Apparently four weeks produces optimum effects. Blah to that I say.

In other news, I had two bitter pills to swallow in work over the past few days. Fair enough, the sugar coating helped get them down, but to be honest, gimmie a break God/Buddha/Mohammad/the robot in the sky. Blah to that too I add.

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