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The Dangers of Food Comas

Sigh.

Today was my last day at work for this school year. This was a rough end of the year, and I came home Tuesday completely exhausted, frustrated, and overwhelmed. I did what any reasonable person would do and ate an entire deep dish pizza (except for the two pieces Winnipeg managed to steal) and half of a carton of peanut butter ice cream. It reminded me of this poem I wrote several years ago.

In my food induced coma, I decided I needed something more. Running was out of the question because my stomach was too full for that level of rocking and rolling. I needed to do something productive. I needed to finish a quick, simple project that would let me feel like I accomplished something. I opted, instead, to try out my new power tool. A chain saw. A real life chain saw.

I've never used a chain saw before, but I think I am addicted to the rumble of the motor. Forcing myself to control a favorite murder weapon in horror flicks felt amazing. It purred. It hummed. It shook the stress right out of my body. By the time I finished my hair and eyes were filled with wood chips, my shoulder ached, and the tree looked so much better. There's still more to do, and for the first time in my life I am looking forward to doing some yard work.

A chain saw. Who knew?
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