I’d be a terrible burglar

So someone brought in Pilsbury pre-cut cookie dough to bake in the toaster oven in my office. I was really hoping this week to reestablish my good eating habits however first day back at work yesterday and Jodie and I hit the greasiest of Chinese food restaurants in the Downtown East Side that we could find.

My spring rolls, although delicious, were stuffed with ingredients completely unrecognisable by sight and actually coated my palate, inner cheeks, uvula (that’s u-v-u-l-a), and esophagus with something that can best be described as having the consistency of engine oil. They were also about the size of a small child’s forearm.

I should note that I did also complement this bastardization of the common spring roll with a heaping, steaming plate of bok choy. Luckily I steered clear of the side of oyster sauce because one quick taste of it off my fingertip nearly burned a hole into the tip of my tongue due to the salt content alone. If there was ever any sign of oyster in there it was eradicated years ago when that bottle was first stored away in the depths of the cupboards in the back.

I had a good, small, and healthy dinner last night that consisted of pure pumpkin puree (yes, the kind you normally use for baking), heated on the stove and mixed with some olive oil, salt, and pepper accompanied with one lonely, cold chicken drumstick as all that remained of the chicken carcass I picked up at Costco a few days earlier. Oh, I dipped it in some homemade garlic mayo for flavour.

Don’t you all wish I’d invite you over for dinner some time?

I woke up this morning proud of myself for eating healthily during dinner the night before and decided today would be another new day. Another attempt at trying to get my digestive system back to our regular way of eating.

But then the cookies started cooking in the toaster oven. I might as well have had them all in my mouth the moment my olfactory system picked up the scent because they were as real to me as John Mayer waking up beside me tomorrow morning.

Just one! I screamed to myself from the inside. Two later I was entering the kitchen for the third time. Just one more and that’s IT!  I screamed to myself again from the inside. There was only one co-worker in the kitchen when I went in. I suddenly felt the need to justify my third visit to the kitchen by saying out loud this time These are just too good, I can’t stop.

Me neither, she responded, that’s why I’m sitting so far away from them.

I’ll just take one more I think, I said without much conviction. And, with that I grabbed the smallest one just to prove it to myself that I had some measure of willpower and sure enough it was stuck to two others and the paper towel they were all sitting on. I then had three clasped between my fingertips while I tried desperately to remove the paper towel that was moving around so much the other cookies were sliding off the plate and by the time it was all over, I walked out of the kitchen, head hung low with three more cookies in my hand.

What an embarrassment I was to myself.

I was nice and not to mention diligent enough to stop at Joan’s desk on the way to mine and dropped off two saying, Here, I brought these for you.

Tags: better eating, cookies, holiday eating, john mayer, resistance

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