I ate too much chocolate mousse today.
For weeks the others talked about going to a buffet and I marked every occasion with references to how I like mousse, how I once read on the internet that your stomach can stretch to twenty times the size of your fist, and how I thought I could eat 20 fists worth of mousse.
I don't like mousse anymore. I ate 11 bowls of mousse tonight. I think I hopefully cancelled it out ish by playing basketball for 3 hours in the afternoon and evening but still. Fortunately the girl at Charlies liked me enough to only charge me half-price as a children's meal when I explained to her what I was planning to try.
I didn't even look at the food, just ate mousse. The first five bowls went down pretty easily. But, as not much time passed and I began to attract the attention of nearby diner’s things got harder.
By the end of the ninth bowl I was full. By the end of the tenth bowl, to ensure that I at least made it into double figures, I was sick.
There was then five minutes as my body furiously debated with my hand that, no, it didn't want any more mousse. It reminded me of the time I tried to drink 22 litres of water in 12 hours. Your body just stops you. I eventually overcame common sense and finished the 11th. This was followed by an hour plus of queasiness.
A lot of these uni breaks over the last few years I've felt I've wasted my holidays. These, I'm less certain I have!