Weak Will Power.
I had the wonderful experience of spending most of Saturday and Sunday with my parents. They came up for a visit and it was really good to see them. They brought along some goodies to put in my locker.
On the sweet side, they included two packages of Double Stuff Oreos! One pound, two ounce package. I immediately gave one package to another inmate to hold for me to be sure I did not devour the two packages in less time than it is taking to type this.
I did not have any extra bread bags, so I did not want to open the cookies and risk them going stale (like that was really going to be a problem).
This morning I woke and felt motivated to clean out my locker. While straightening out the 'food' shelf in my locker, what should appear but an empty bread bag. From the time I made this earth shaking discovery till the Oreos were opened probably is only eligible for measurement with the most precise time tracking devices.
It is now a few hours later and I am happy to report that at least half of the package still exists. The odds of the remainder surviving till tomorrow morning are not too good. But they will be giving their life for a good cause. Cause I like them. [This post has been sitting in the memory all week. It is now Sunday evening, seven days later and not only did the first pack not make it till morning, the second package is about to become a fond memory. The second package did last a little longer in that it was opened on Friday evening and will make it till a little later this evening (Sunday). I have been sharing them with other inmates. Not only to be a nice guy, but I figure that saves me a few laps around the yard.]
In addition to the cookies, I also received three bricks of cheddar cheese, two triangles of parmesan cheese, one package of two ounce cheddar cheese sticks (one of those is gone) and four cans of diced tomatoes (one of those is gone also). [Okay, so all the cheese sticks are now gone, one brick of parmesan is finito, and another can of diced tomatoes will be sacrificed in tonight's black bean and rice meal.]
It was great to be able to carry on a conversation over several hours and not hear the "F" word or any of its compound forms. I was able to exert control over my own speech and did not embarrass myself in front of Mom and use any of the more colorful language that I am normally surrounded with.