My daughter is spending the afternoon and evening at a friend's house. My husband has golf on Tuesdays. As I have a final exam tomorrow, I decided to treat my son to Wendy's for dinner so I wouldn't have to worry about cooking anything for him.

When I ordered his meal, I totally broke under the pressure of this question: "Anything Else?"

That's when I panicked about my own dinner, instantly imagining myself emptying a can of almonds followed by the entire Lindt chocolate bar in my cupboard whilst in the throes of studying, so I impulsed shopped a burger.

I skimmed the menu quickly and hit paydirt... a burger heaped with bacon. How could anything possibly be more perfect than that? It was decided. Plus, the last time I ordered a Wendy's salad, I promptly tossed it into the garbage after looking up the nutrition info. (This shoulda been my red flag. Never eat meat prepared by people who can f*** up a salad.)

"Yes. I'll have a Baconator."

"What size? Single, double or triple?"

I confidently replied, "I'll have the triple."

I expected a funny look or a confirmation from the clerk, such as "Are you sure?" I was fully prepared to justify my order to her by telling her about the Atkins Diet. "It's OK ma'am. I am an Atkins dieter. We eat meat and bacon without shame" or, "This is like diet food for me. I'll need smaller pants in the morning for sure!"

She didn't even raise an eyebrow, though.

There was no fanfare. No streamers shot out from the ceiling; no clown popped out of the back room with balloons; the manager did not present me with a free t-shirt declaring "TRIPLE BACONATOR EATING CHAMPION 2011"; no one snapped my photo to hang on the wall of past Baconator eaters. I was just another customer ordering another sandwich.

In fact, I was asked if I wanted more food to go with it.

When I brought home this monstrosity, I removed the buns and disassembled it onto a dinner plate. This thing is HUGE. It's so huge that I cannot fathom someone eating one of these things with a side of fries and a coke. I could have split this sandwich up as a family meal. I am embarrassed to have ordered it now that I had it in front of me.

I'll eat it - in installments, if need be - because I paid over $7 for it.

The Wendy's burger is a contradiction of saltiness and lack thereof. I don't know how the sandwich artists at Wendy's manage to make a sandwich that tastes like pure salt, but when you take a bite into the meat the first thing that pops into your head is, "needs salt." I'll probably be swollen tomorrow due to the extra salt but the burger had zero taste. How the hell did fast food taste so good in my former life?!

Next time, I spend my $7 on a nice steak and spend the time slaving over the grill!