When regular people see food, they usually think of its taste and price tag first. It’s not the same with bodybuilders dancing the mentally ill macros dance. Muscle constructors can only recognize protein, fat, and carbohydrates. Harry TheBicepsFlexKilla was affected too. His protein OCD had started a long time ago and was only getting stronger.

As usual, Harry woke up at 7 am without an alarm. There was no need for ”beep-beep-beep” anymore because he had become a clock himself. Going to bed at midnight? Still waking up at 7 to drink a protein shake. Going to bed at 2 in the morning? No problem! Still waking up at 7 to drink a protein shake. Going to bed at 6:45 am? No problem! Still waking up at 7 to drink a protein shake.

In short, Harry was a machine controlled by a protein clock.

He was convinced that the only reason why he was not growing like the guys in the magazines was his insufficient protein intake. Therefore, he made a pact with himself – no less than 200 grams of protein a day. His obsession was having a serious impact on his life. There were nights when Harry had to walk for 30 minutes in the cold to buy food from the closest 24/7 store in order to cover his protein requirements for the day. He was not messing around, though. The last 6 weeks had been straight – no deviation from the plan.

Harry took his favorite oversized glass and put two scoops of vanilla protein in it. He added some milk and drank the mixture. Then he started getting ready for work with a smile on his face. Of course, he wasn’t happy that his slave day was about to begin, but at least he had already consumed 40 grams of protein, and that was enough to keep him going.

“160 more grams to go,” thought Harry.

At about 9 o’clock Harry left the apartment. He was already at the bus station when he remembered something essential.

“I forgot to eat my tuna. Phucccccccccck me dead,” said out loud Harry.

The only person close to him was one of those granddaddies living their third, fourth or maybe even fifth puberty. The guy was easily over 60, and yet his headphones were pumping some strong house music at full volume. He had a goatee, dark glasses and one of those T-shirts that try to spread wisdom through trivial quotes written with funky fonts. The man didn’t even acknowledge Harry’s existence.

Harry went back to the apartment and entered without taking his shoes off. He grabbed a tuna can out of the fridge and demolished it in 3 minutes. He almost vomited while running back to the bus stop, but it was worth it.

“140 more to go,” thought Harry.

At about 9:40 Harry was at work. He had to participate in a meeting that was going to take place in the large conference room. Truth be told, Harry was not really an important player. He was simply a part of the filler. His boss wanted to impress another business jerker and asked Harry and a few other overworked and underpaid employees to join the event in order to create the illusion of grandeur and importance.

The meeting was an ego measuring contest between the two bosses. The whole time Harry was thinking about his usual 10:30 protein shake:

“I need to drink my protein shake.”

“I need to drink my protein shake.”

“I need to drink my protein shake.”

After 2 hours of the same loop, the meeting ended. Harry was finally free. However, his protein timing was seriously off.

He took his backpack and headed towards the bathroom. He was mixing his protein elixirs there because he wanted to be at peace. For him drinking a protein shake had become the equivalent of taking a cigarette break except that it was much healthier.

Another reason to choose solitude was that he didn’t want to actively participate in the office gossip. He was working with far too many snitches with sick corporate ambitions. He didn’t want to break his image of a hard working guy climbing the ladder. There was a problem, however. The long meeting had put the bladder of half the office to the test. Both bathrooms were occupied.

“Fuck this anti-protein world,” thought Harry.

He had no choice and went to the kitchen of the office where he started mixing a nice protein shake – vanilla flavor.

A couple of minutes later the elixir was ready. The final product was absolutely gorgeous and had a viagra effect on Harry. Before drinking it, Harry decided to wash his protein scoop. At that exact moment, his boss entered the room.

“That looks nice,” he said and drank about 2/3 of Harry’s protein shake. When Harry turned around and saw what had happened, he experienced the deep sternum pain that you get when you realize that the girl you like has been using you as a training dummy to improve her flirting game. For Harry, this experience was even more painful because of his protein OCD. Everything had to be timed perfectly, and he was already off by 45 minutes. He imagined hitting his boss in the nut sack with a heavyweight golf club. In Harry’s mind, protein thieves deserved serious punishment.

He stood motionless for about 15 seconds.

“Harry, wake up! I am not paying you to work in the kitchen. Back to work,” said his boss while dialing a number on his smartphone.

Left alone Harry drank the rest of the protein shake and ate a handful of raw material straight from the box without mixing it. There was no time to prepare another protein shake. Ironically, this was also the last available dose. Harry was officially out of the protein powder.

“80 grams of protein! 120 more to go”, thought Harry, went back to his desk and assumed the common neck forward gorilla posture.

Harry did not take more breaks and finished work at 8 in the evening. He was already feeling like a tired sled dog. The thought of riding the disgusting bus full of dirty lowlifes for one more hour was enough to make him question his existence.

He decided to go to the local store and buy 200 grams of peanuts in order to add about 50 more grams of protein to his current investment.

“You have some peanuts,” asked Harry.

“Only roasted,” replied the shopkeeper. She had the pervert look – fake red hair, many tattoos on her forearms and decently sized cupcakes. The ambition deprived face was a legit deal breaker, though. Since Harry was too tired to think about anything other than protein, he did not pay attention to her. He just took his roasted peanuts and left. 10 minutes later it was all gone.

“125 grams of protein. 75 more to go,” thought Harry.

An hour later Harry was in the elevator. The doors were almost closed when a fat hand slid in-between. It was Nickson – his neighbor upstairs. The guy smelled like a cigarette factory, had a fat gut and was successfully pulling the 45-year-old redneck look even though he was 29. Nickson was a classic lowlife although in his mind he was the king of the street.

“How are you, Harry?”

“Fine.”

“You look skinny, brah! You need to bulk up like me,” said Nickson while trying to make his chest stand out. He failed miserably. The only thing that increased in size was his beer gut.

As you probably expect, at this exact moment, the electricity in the building was cut. The elevator stopped moving; the lights went out. Harry was left alone in the dark with the king of cigarette smoke. However, that did not scare him that much. He was more afraid that he was missing quality protein time. He needed 75 more grams before midnight. It was already 10 in the evening. He didn’t have much time.

20 painful minutes passed without an improvement. The two men were screaming for help, but nobody cared.

Nickson sat on the floor and started chatting with somebody on his iPhone. Harry knew better. He had personally seen one of those rat sized dogs use the elevator as an unload area. Harry concluded that staying upright was the better approach.

After 20 more minutes of nothingness and annoying “lols” from Nickson, Harry’s protein OCD intensified.

“Not enough protein. We need more protein. The construction of muscle requires moooooore protein. Provide more protein,” were among some of the intrusive thoughts torturing Harry’s mind.

Just when he was about to give all hope, the electricity came back, and the elevator restarted. Harry looked at his watch – he had to eat 75 grams of protein in 15 minutes.

By the time he was in the kitchen, the countdown was already at minute 12.

Harry opened the last can of tuna and ate it so fast that without a slow motion effect it appeared that the metal can itself was a part of the meal.

“145 grams of protein. 55 more to go,” thought Harry.

He started looking for more protein in the fridge like a hungry vampire. Sadly, he was out of protein waffles and powder.

The whole time his OCD was screaming:

“Not enough protein!”

“Not enough protein!”

“Not enough protein!”

After 1 wasted minute, Harry located an old pack of eggs. Some of the units were broken.

Expiration date? Who cares?

“It’s time to be a man,” thought Harry and prepared to drink the eggs raw.

A minute later they were broken and placed in the large cup.

“1,2,3 I am in! All or nothing! Fuck salmonella! Cowards never win,” said Harry and began gulping the substance.

Harry looked at the clock. The time was 11:58. The OCD voice in his head disappeared.

“I did it! 200 grams,” thought Harry while removing egg yolk from his mouth.”

Two minutes later, he vomited in the bathroom, and the OCD voice restarted. It had a question for Harry – “How much protein did you lose?”

Harry had no answer. That made him sad.