Monday, October 29, 2007

Devious Dastardly Donuts

Just a quick note about the evil of donuts. On Thursday morning last week I had to attend a meeting in which our health insurance representative presented all of the plan options for the upcoming year. I came in, noted that there was no food, and took a seat at the conference table. Then he came in, with two giant boxes of HOT Krispy Kremes, all varieties, and set one of them, open, directly in front of my seat. I think my health insurance company should fire him. He clearly does not have their best interests at heart.

I smelled them. My titillated nostrils quivered like my dogs’ noses when there is meat on the grill. I admired them. The thick, gooey, not quite yet hardened glaze. The stiff and smooth chocolate frosting. The sprinkles, all haphazard and gay. The powdered sugar, gleaming like fresh inviting snow. I glared at them. No attending to my dental plan options . . . no, I was too busy having a showdown. Sitting on my hands I gave them a steady and (I hoped) withering look. “You don’t own me” I said.

My heart was racing because I knew that part of me WANTED the donuts to own me. I wanted to sink my teeth into the brief resistance, the shock of sweetness and then fall into the warm airiness of the interior. I wanted to lick the glaze off my lips, off my fingers. I wanted to MAKE OUT with those donuts. Donuts are my bad ex. I took back my key. I changed my phone number. But when they find me . . . I am momentarily blinded by my memories of our sweet forbidden love.

But I know . . . I know that the passion is fleeting. And the emotional turmoil that follows is painful. There is no lasting comfort to be had in my lusty donut love. Alas, a donut’s heart is an empty cold place.

I wrenched my focus from the donuts back to the exhortations of pre-tax flex spending and regained control of my faculties. I know, I should be able to enjoy one in moderation now and again. There aren’t bad foods, just bad behaviors. Well I get that. And it typically is true. But I just can’t mess with Mr. Kreme.


PastaQueen said...

Heh! Yeah, that's like having your driving instructor offer you a beer before your road lesson.

Rachel said...

Just remember, sometimes (on rare occasions) it's ok to have something sweet.

It's about progress, not perfection.

That being said, I'm SOOOO proud of you for resisting! Since it's my dream to have a Krispy Kreme IV inserted in my arm with opaque glaze coursing through my veins, I can't say that I would have been able to resist as well as you did...

Good for you!