That cake

Looks harmless and quite delicious.

That's what I thought when I saw the chocolate cake being taken out of the oven to cool and later spread with icing.

It wasn't that I didn't know what kind of cake it was - I actually did, but I thought it had always been a  bit of a gimmick.  A high-school craze that didn't really mean anything much.

Such was the case when I sampled 'special' Anzac cookies way back in my teens, I didn't really feel anything mind altering or physically altering - maybe just a little bit of a funny tummy.

This chocolate cake that I tried, was so moist, and after a few bites you couldn't even taste anything other than chocolate and I guess I must have forgotten the special ingredient in it.

I started laughing at the slightest of things, I met a gay Thai guy and I thought he was the best thing that could've happened to the party, his 'camp-ness' totally emphasised but I thought it was just him.  I started dancing around the room and still didn't realise the cake had any effect, rather I thought it was the white wine I had drunk nearly a bottle of.

Then I got ready for dinner and realised how hard it was to put powder on, suddenly the world seemed distant and I struggled with the GHD through my hair.

'Oh no!' - I gasped - this couldn't be... I haven't felt like this in over a decade and there was a reason why.... I didn't like it.

By the time I got to the lift, my legs were tingling, my body started to and I regretted eating that cake right there and then.

In the car and onto the restaurant, I felt that time had stood still and by that stage I couldn't measure my voice levels, a trip to the ladies and back to the table felt like weeks apart.  I couldn't stay in the restaurant, everything felt distant, like I was in a bubble or a vacuum from reality.

Back in the car, with takeway by my feet, I started to jump back and forth in time. I thought I was still dressed for work but then not, didn't know what in the world was happening and I just wanted it to stop. But it wouldn't get any better, my body was like a big tingling pimple about to burst.  I was in a world of hate and swearing at that damn cake repeatedly.

I don't think I remembered how to eat, chew, get the fork in my mouth without missing it, the whole time trying to stop myself staring into the TV, mostly staring at nothing. Cursing in my head - 'damn that cake!'

Oh well I thought, let's just write off tonight, forget about it and look forward to a new day tomorrow.

My throat began to feel light, a bit funny, like I couldn't swallow as my throat was too big to contract and that I had no muscle there anymore.  By then I couldn't even talk properly, I couldn't mouth my words, and my voice was merely just a hushing sound of mumbles.

I passed out and woke up to the new day I was waiting for.

I was happy to feel normal again.

How exhausting!

On the upside - I felt refreshed, rested and felt good all over.

There goes one chocolate cake that I would be happy not to try again.

Yours truly

Miss A

n.b - 'the cake' is not pictured