The night I ate too much Milo. A cautionary tale.

Like many people, I moved out of home immediately after finishing school.
After a short period I found myself living alone in a small flat that looked like a lego block, surviving on the meager wages a cadetship provides.

Like many more people, my financial priorities went like this: First - things I want but don't need. Second - things I need and want. Third - food.

This led me to spending much time playing X-Box and surfing the internet while smoking cigarettes, throwing parties and being hungry as fuck.

All the while I was surrounded by the fetid remains of the only meal I had made during the six-month period in question. Each morning I smelled every t-shirt I owned to ensure it was still only kinda dirty, instead of being properly dirty, which would require me to lie it flat for one month before wearing it again.

My belief that eating McDonalds each day was nutritionally viable if I walked there and back was sorely tested by my desire to not walk anywhere, but my reluctance to purchase petrol kept it afloat.
I became intimately familiar with the fluff-encrusted console of my beaten up Torana as I spelunked weekly for forgotten five-cent pieces.

All in all, I was a typical 18-year-old guy, striking out to seize the world on his own.

In the process however, I ate some truly awful things.

When my brother and I moved out of home our mother provided us with a box of staple ingredients to furnish our new kitchen, undoubtedly so we could set the world alight with our flamboyantly prepared delights. In reality, the grey-bricked room swiftly devolved into a large, overheated box in which we housed a toaster, four pans and a potato.

The pans were quickly burned beyond recognition through our abortive attempts to boil rice. "There's no water left in there? Oh well, keep boiling".
The toaster saw regular use and the potato sprouted offspring whose serpentine growths - obviously on the cusp of sentience - reached painfully for the light.

Once my brother was gone I would gaze at the tip of the potato sprouts as their young tips peeked out from between the cupboard door's slats. I imagined myself as Captain Picard of the Starship Enterprise. I would give a stirring speech that would convince the heartless officers of the Federation that yes, Commander Potato had a soul, and he was a valued member of my crew. I'm sure he would be an invaluable resource for study, but he was alive dammit, and he wasn't going anywhere.

Needless to say, the box of staples remained just that, never convalescing into anything approaching a meal.
When I was hungry and sans cash I would peruse the random ingredients, seeing what I could eat. Sadly, it never occurred to me that I should view them as components, rather I would look for something I could eat in its current state.

This was not a new habit. During high school I would defer breakfast by eating a raw packet of two minute noodles on the bus or in the first class of the day. Motivated by the promise of additional sleep I would continue to defer my morning routine until I reached the point of arriving at school with a noodle cake in one hand and my shoes in the other. Teachers patiently informed me it was not appropriate to attend math shoeless - maybe fearing that I would push into the realm of pants - and that getting dressed was more of a home thing.

I was never a fan of the drink Milo, despite its tastiness I was never a big milk drinker and so shied away from the 'energy food' enjoyed by many.
Amongst my stores, however, was a gigantic tin of milo powder. I developed the habit of having a spoonful occasionally on my way past. They were tasty granules, and I liked the way it dried out and stuck to the inside of my mouth.
As one does, I decided one day that maybe I could have two spoonfuls, and weeks later I was having half-a-dozen at a time while reclining on the couch.

One night soon after, tragedy struck. I sat down for my customary spoonfuls and became engrossed in whatever I was watching at the time. A clang brought me back to reality as the spoon scraped the tin's bottom. Awareness dawned.

I had accidentally eaten a kilogram of dry Milo.

I was understandably concerned, but for the next hour or so all seemed fine.
But then I felt full. Then I felt fuller. The inside of my mouth felt coated in powder and drier than my sarcasm. My stomach felt the same, with the added bonus of containing a bowling ball-like mass of coagulant Milo.
I was twitching and freaking out. It was awful. The advertisements were correct.

I was full of energy, but I could not move.

My limbs thrashed with the energy of one hundred after-school sport participants, but they were pinned down by the dense mass my torso had become.

I cannot stress this enough: Do not eat a kilogram of Milo for dinner.

I slept little that night. I did learn a valuable lesson. Until the next time.

Lest you believe my Milo incident was isolated, allow me to briefly outline some other bumps in the culinary road. Here's a few other horrendous dinner decisions I've made:

A packet of jelly crystals. Another example of my eating ingredients without taking the time to develop them into their destined meals. Raw jelly crystals are interesting as they start to become jelly in your mouth in the seconds before you swallow them. These gave me an almighty sugar rush, in which I accomplished many great, blurry things. Regrettably the comedown was instantaneous and brutal. I woke the next morning with an extra third of HALO completed, the furniture moved, a long night's sleep behind me and a headache in front. I was also hungry.

Chicken Tonight. For an entire year. Even after I made the leap to preparing meals, it took me a while to perfect the concept.
Enter Chicken Tonight! Add it to chicken and BAM, you have a meal. Sadly, I made their Butter Chicken variety - a pale imitation of the actual dish - for a very long time. It is now ruined. Forever.

A few cigarettes and a can of Coke. This traditional dinner is an important marker on my road to adulthood. I can proudly say its out of rotation. It is now breakfast.