I’m addicted to sweets. I’m sure I’ve confessed that before on my blog. It’s a way to self-medicate when I’m stressed, annoyed or otherwise not calm. Since it’s Girls Scout Cookie time and Easter candy time, I have a double whammy. Avoiding Easter Candy is easier than Girl Scout Cookies. No one stockpiles Cadbury Eggs in the office. We have about a dozen boxes of Thin Mints, Samoas, Lemonades, Thanks-a-lot, and Peanut Butter Patties in the break room.
Not to mention that once in a while someone will share a treat given to them by a vendor. The worst thing you can do is go around the office and offer a cookie to everyone in their cube. You might think you’re being polite, but you are just enabling my problem. Now I’m going to use politeness as a reason for not refusing the cookie with 130 grams of fat in it. Yes, I looked it up after I ate it and was appalled.
I can’t blame other people for my choices. No gun was put to my head. Skinny people refuse food all the time in a polite manner. I just really wanted that damn cookie. I’d rather be comforting myself with the prospect of hot sex later in the day or actual hot sex, but that’s about six weeks away, so I substitute cookies and candy.
I try not to be too hard on myself. I mean it’s not like I’m addicted to heroin or cocaine. I haven’t killed a man. It could be worse. Even my eating habits aren’t that bad, overall. I just need to be more aware of what I’m doing instead of mindlessly giving in to my bad habits.