The 'Two Biscuit' Rule

Don't you read the title and act like you don't know what I'm talking about.

 It's perfectly simple, it's perfectly relevant and we know we should  obey it.

 The rule is everywhere we look, everywhere we breathe and stop for that cuppa. It's unavoidable, sacred and inbuilt into Human nature.

Should I continue to tease you? Or just come out and say it? I think I'll torment you with an ellipse first and then we'll get started ...

Prepare to be hurled  into a scenario:

You're exhausted, you've finished work for the day and it's time to unwind with a hot soothing cup of tea. A careful brew that caresses your throat, cradles your taste buds and cuddles your insides until you're all warm, dissolved and smiling. The steam dances delicately in the air before gently swaying upwards in to your nostrils. The wafting warms your nose skin and the fine lining hairs quiver contentedly. 

aaaaaahhhh.

But hang on- there's something missing.

Like paper without  pen, salt without pepper, Angelina without Brad- the tea ALONE is incomplete. It needs it's other half. It needs it's biscuits.

But with the biscuits- along comes the dilemma.

You may have your irresistibly scrumptious, crumbly gems of happiness dunking daintily into your cup of hot heaven- but when do you STOP yourself? 

We all know we mustn't munch excessively- so where do we draw the line? 

After ONE biscuit- there will ALWAYS be the crave for another. One biscuit will never quite satisfy your needs, never quite delight all the taste buds, never quite hit the spot.

So then we opt for another, to colour in our edible edges and solve the problem.

TWO biscuits is the dignified amount, the respected amount, the well mannered and well contained amount of biscuits to have. And this, my friend, is the 'two biscuit rule'.

But for me, it's not as easy a rule to follow as it sounds.

Once you've eaten those two biscuits-not only are you craving another- you're feeling more guilt at the thought of a 3rd. Because THREE biscuits is excess. The very thought of three, wreaks with the pungent stench of greed. Even the word 'three' itself has an excess of 'e's. Three is naughty waters.

But i like naughty waters.

I want to push the button that i shouldn't, peak around the door that i shouldn't and dip my feet in those cheeky streams. Yes i know it will come with it's guilt,  I know I'll regret having wet feet-but BOY is the dipping worth it.

So you might be shocked at the length of this ramble on the mere concept of 'biscuits and tea' , but I write with a profound message, a stirring truth, a moving moral...

I say we all need to screw the 'two biscuit rule'.

If you want that third biscuit- you EAT that third biscuit. (you eat that NINTH biscuit!)
If you want to wade in those waters- you WADE to your hearts content.
Because societal barriers and peer pressure aside -it is YOUR choice and YOUR choice alone which decides the realms of your BISCUIT BLISS...

'5 minutes left'

We've all heard them say it. We've all been there.
That sudden churn on our insides as the examiner claims we've got  ...

'5 minutes left'.

It is here the brain shudders with the shock,blood curdles, arms tingle and deep within the soul of each student in that dire, uniformed hall- a frightened, desperate gurgle erupts.
It is here we enter into the ...
RED ZONE. 

Over the last two weeks I've made frequent visits to the  RED ZONE. Yes, the last fortnight I have been lucky enough to enjoy the splendor of solid examinations:
 

• .The warmth of those  examiner's faces -as they death stare at you. (If you look straight into their eyes you can see the polluted,dark abyss's of their souls. Don't look for too long though,you may fall in. And drown)

• Those elegant rows of  inviting wooden desks -all thin ,scrawny and (of course) wobbly

•  .That silent blanket of air that cradles the room- brimming with an unbearable tension that seeps into our lungs and begins to suffocates us. Nice and slowly.

But nothing is worse than the RED ZONE.
Perhaps many find that with 5 minutes to go they've completed everything? They're just checking over things?
Well I'm, of course, a rambler-so never find myself in this position. It's always a mad rush to try and complete what I'm writing-somehow put down the swirling ideas in my head on to the paper, but it's never legible.
The RED ZONE with it's flashing lights and wailing sirens- not only whips my mind's swirling confusion into even more of a mess that it's impossible to decipher anything- triggers the hand spasm.
That uncontrollable flinching in your exhausted writing hand as it tries to rebel against anymore writing. You are forcing it to move faster-times ticking-but it refuses to obey,it can't keep up anymore.
You are physically FIGHTING with your OWN hand.
Everything that is written  forms this porridge lumpy line.
In fact, it's more of a wave than a sentence.


You become overwhelmed with this constant fear you're not going to finish and that failure is going to follow you in life. Now you're turning crimson and frustrated. Everything EXCEPT what you need in your head, is in your head.

Worst of all, more treacherous than any of the above in the RED ZONE, is those nearby workers who are all sitting calmly and completely relaxed. It's disgusting.
The smug looks on their faces, with the time to look around,casually sip their water bottles-watch you spluttering and struggling, turning as red as the zone itself. You soon convince yourself you're the ONLY one in the panic which just makes things that whole bucketful more terrifying.



So my advice? 
My handy tip for those who also experience the abysmal, excruciating woes of the RED ZONE? 

You're not alone. Simple as.

Although, pots luck, those nearest to you will be sitting cool and collected-know that there are lots of other RED ZONE sufferers in the room.
They'll be scattered around, equally baffled,equally tomato-faced.
You're all slipping and squirming together.
And don't you forget it.