How do you describe an addict? Someone who just can't break himself away from something, right? Someone who no matter what he knows about the dangers and the health issues can't stop the destructive behavior. Well, apparently that's me.
I tried. I really tried. I waited until today, the very last minute, to purchase Halloween candy. I decided this morning that I would not only avoid candy but really make an effort to eat more healthfully--starting today. All the way to the store I brainstormed healthy meals that I love, healthy snacks I could buy, some new ways I could rejuvenate my exercise routine (okay, stop laughing, I kind of have a routine). I decided to only buy Halloween candy that I hate. I decided that I would put it in the shed until the moment trick-or-treaters arrived. I had a plan, and it was a pretty good one.
But then I went into the store. Is it my fault the Reese cups and Whoppers (everyone knows they're the best) were on sale? Is it my fault that my body physically craves these things like a baby needs its milk? I think I may be the first person in history, they should do a study on me, truly, for whom candy has a vitamin-like effect. I am a happier person with chocolate smeared in the corners of my mouth. Or at least that's what the addict inside me said.
I gathered the candy into the cart and then put a giant thing of toilet paper on top of it, so I wouldn't see it and obsess. I went to the produce aisle and picked out beautiful vegetables and ingredients for healthy, delicious, figure-enhancing foods. I found a plump organic turkey breast on sale. I could cook it and eat it for days with salad and assorted vegetables instead of snacking on other junky things. I would totally forget about Halloween and the temptations of candy. Or at least that's what the Dr. Oz-educated part of me said.
As I stood in line at the store, the addict inside me and the Dr. Oz-listener have an all out wrestling match. It went something like this:
I'll put the candy in the back of the car where I can't reach it. Then I won't be tempted while I drive.
Are you insane? Giving up sweets the day before Halloween? Blow it out and start on Sunday.
I need to be more healthy, eat more vegetables, take care of my body now that I"m growing older.
Oh, please. You need to accept your body for what it is. Celebrate it's unique passion for junk chocolate.
I'm going to weigh 400 pounds if something doesn't give.
Oh, shut up. You've got good genes. Look at your parents and give it a rest, will ya?
I begin to sweat and pace a little. The woman behind me asks if I'm okay. I notice she's buying one pack of hot dogs. That's it. Who can go to the grocery store and buy one pack of hot dogs? I wonder about this for a while, a blessed break from my internal struggle.
But then, something inside me broke loose. Life is too short, dammit. Right there in line, I ripped open the bag of candy, took out a Reese's cup, ripped it open and began to eat it. Tiny bite by tiny bite, I savored every bite.
The woman behind me asked, "Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm great now. Want a Reese's?"
"No, I can't. If I eat one, you can forget it, I'll eat the whole bag."
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked.
"Well, would you please put your groceries on the counter and move on with your little feast. I'm kind of in a hurry."
OUCH. There's more to this little story, but I think I've shared all you need to know. Let's just say, I hope I have enough candy tomorrow night.
My Mission Statement
I write to serve, to unite, to educate. I write to share literature and flesh out ideas that may be of interest to others. I write to document an emotion, experience, or a blip in time. My mission is to write in such a way that the reader is reminded that we can find humor in all situations. It's one of the great blessings of life.