Today’s lunch: steak quesodilla and chicken soft taco (w/ cola).

Oh, who am I kidding. We’re all adults here and we know what this is and what it isn’t.

I have to come clean and make a dirty confession: I’m adicted to Taco Bell’s queso sauce. God, how I wish that weren’t true. I want to be healhty. I want to be a foodie who appreciates the finer things. But damn it’s spicey, cheesey goodness. Damn it all to hell.

I think about it at night. I long for waiting in a twenty car line at the lunch rush to the highway 96 Taco Smell. My mouth salivates as the fast food worker hands me the bag that is thin and cheap, even by plastic bag standards.

Why! Why do I want this junk so badly? I hate myself for it. And the void of my self loathing never is filled with the fleating warmth of this kind of lunch.

But yet I keep coming back for it, over and over. A number seven; steak with chicken soft taco.

I hate you, Taco Bell. I hate you almost as much as I hate myself for buying your cheap, all-too-convenient food. One of these days I’m going to learn how to make my own healthy spicey queso sauce and leave you forever.

But not today, it seems.

(Oh, and I get the chicken taco because I really don’t like ground beaf unless I’m the one making it. I’m really picky about that, at least)