Death by Krispy Kreme.

I just sent this email to a friend:

For lunch we went to this Italian place for my bosses birthday and I ate the world. Then I ate the world's dessert. In five minutes there's going to be cake. I might hurl.

Yesterday someone dropped an entire dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts on my desk as a "thank you" for helping with an event. I wanted to ask that person what I did to make them hate me so much that they'd leave TWELVE DOUGHNUTS on my desk. What the crap? Why? It's really completely impossible to have an entire box of doughnuts in front of you and not eat one. Or two. It's a conspiracy.

I am generally pretty healthy with my eating but I'm not made of steel, people. I do have a weakness and it's name is sugar. If I lay off altogether I stop wanting it so so so much, but it doesn't take much to get me to throw myself backwards off the wagon, clutching a Krispy Kreme box to my bosom.

I think I've turned the corner, though, because when offered a chunk of store-bought birthday cake, thick with a wedge of lardy white icing, I politely declined. I mean, shit, I don't even like sheet cake! I know this statement pretty much translates into, "I hate freedom and puppies" for some people, but really, why would I eat something I don't even like, just for the illicit caloric joy of processed icing sugar gritting between my teeth? It's NOT WORTH IT.


(The doughnut, on the other hand, was fucking fantastic.)