Vending Machine Blues

As I may have mentioned before, my healthy diet nemesis is not pizza or Doritos or even my beloved Oreos, in my opinion. My real sugar, empty-calorie addiction is pop.

I always told myself that, once I was pregnant, I would give up all crappy foods and eat 100% healthy. I thought that if I was doing it for someone else, instead of myself, I would have the willpower to do it. The sugary foods would lose their usual appeal and I could resist temptation without batting an eyelash.

I was wrong. Very, very wrong. Especially during the first trimester, when I felt terrible and for whatever reason, healthy food held no appeal and all I wanted to eat was crap. Fast food, sweets, and gallons of carbonated beverages. In actuality it wasn't quite that bad—I did manage to force down fruits, vegetables, and whole grains on a somewhat regular schedule—but still I was humbled by the experience. I knew other women had indulged during their pregnancies, but I thought I could rise above it all. And I was wrong.

Which I was reminded of again yesterday. For the past few weeks, I've had at least one night where I had trouble sleeping. I don't think I've gained enough weight yet to be really uncomfortable sleeping, but sometimes my brain just won't shut off. Yesterday I was experiencing the aftermath of a sleepless night, and all I wanted was pure sugar and caffeine to get me through the afternoon. An afternoon which would be spent going over budgets. I knew I'd need help to get through the day without my head drooping onto the piles of paperwork.

So I caved. I went to the vending machine to get a refreshing Dr. Pepper. AND IT WAS OUT. So I tried the other pop machine AND IT WAS BROKEN. I was devastated. I had been dreaming about the sugary pop of carbonation bubbles on my tongue all morning. How was I going to stay awake now?!?

And for some reason, that made me think about how sucky it would be to have the job of vending machine repair man. From my own personal experience, people take their vending excursions wayyyyy too seriously. For something that costs about $1 and is consumed immediately on purchase, I get very invested in it. No one wants to be eating out of vending machines—we finally turn to them in desperation, when we were running late and didn't pack any lunch, or JUST ... NEED ... SUGAR. This is a very serious thing.

So I'd imagine that vending machine repair persons get a much larger hassle from irate customers than the cost and life span of their products warrants. "It's just candy!" I'm sure they think throughout their entire day. But we all know it's not just candy. It's the office worker's salvation, and so much more.