Quitting My Love Affair with Sugar
I hated to end it, but I had to—the other woman was killing me
Chocolate cake. If I could, I’d eat it every day. I’m not kidding. There was a birthday cake at work, and I ate a slice each day until it was gone. It wasn’t even my birthday. I’d wander over to the staff fridge every afternoon, hoping the cake box was still there. If it were, I’d retrieve the knife so swiftly from the drawer — you’d think it was hidden in my back pocket.
I couldn’t wait to cut into the delicate icing and three layers of velvety brown sweetness. The first bite on my fork and tender swallow —oh-so-mmm. I stripped down each layer one mouthful at a time.
It didn’t matter if the cake was stale — I licked the plate clean. She gave me the kick that I needed. Yes — she. Cake became a person to me.
This is the love affair I have with sugar. She is the other woman in my life.
The hunt for junk. If it’s there, I will hunt it down. If it’s free, I’ll take it — no questions asked. I can't stop at a handful of gummy bears. I’ll empty the bag.
Don’t you dare ask me about potato chips.
Or cookies.
Or donuts.
I don’t have a limit.
