It was the lunching hour, and I did hunger; but “Stay firm, Ned,” I said to myself, “for your kitchen is not empty, and money does not grow on trees.”

I set out to return home, my great quest for immunization records completed. It was a journey of no more than perhaps twenty short minutes, if traffic was with me. An easy task–or so I thought.

Immediately to the right of me there appeared a Taco Bell, and I was sorely tempted. “You don’t even have to turn left. All people know that right turns barely count, it is more like a glide. Also, tacos,” said the Dark Ones, but my hands were firm upon the steering wheel, and I did not turn.

I traveled further down Perkins, getting closer and closer to the safety of my home. I expected no further incidents–but lo, a Sonic! Waiting to ambush me where it was always waiting to ambush me! So familiar, having been on the corner of Perkins and Stuart for most of my life, that noticing it was truly a surprise!

“Come on, they have tater tots,” said the Dark Ones. “And they bring the food to your car.”

“I’m being a vegetarian!” I cried in protest. “Why must you tempt me in this way?”

“Tater tots are vegetarian,” the Dark Ones tried, but I stood strong against them, for I am going out of town tomorrow and do not want to come back to evil-smelling proof of my misdeeds.

“I will diminish, and go into my kitchen, and hope for deliverance from the curse of not having anything delicious to eat,” I muttered, pulling in to my customary parking spot.

But alas! there is only lettuce I have been ignoring since I bought it in my fridge, and naught but remnants of frozen vegetables in my freezer; and my cabinets are filled with things I cannot cook and finish eating by tomorrow morning, even should I eat until I wish to have stopped several bowls ago.

This is the curse of Being Reasonable About Money. Mourn me, my friends. Mourn me and all the tacos that needs must pass uneaten beyond my sight.