She walks into the kitchen and sees them sitting there; 2 dozen doughnuts, still warm from the oven, and gooey with glaze. The smell of the bakery bounty relentlessly calls her to indulge. Without thinking she says, “Mmm-mmm”.
But then, hit with a moment of semi-consciousness, she says “Wait, I’ll be good -- just half will do.” She reaches for a knife and slices a piece of hole-less heaven in half.
As she lifts the goodness to her lips, she wakes up.
“What the hell am I doing?!”
She tosses the doughnut into the trash, and proudly leaves the kitchen.
I fought the doughnut and I won!
I know, I know; seems kind of dramatic, doesn’t it? But for the last several weeks I have not been able to keep from mindlessly snacking. To actually have that doughnut to my lips (and yes, it did touch!) and throw it out is a huge deal for me.
I realize it shouldn’t be that way, but it is nonetheless.