Seduced By A Tiny Powdered Hole

June 20, 2010 at 12:13 pm (Cussed Dumbers, The Easy Chair)

I have disappointed myself.

My will power hasn’t always been the best. I’ve struggled with various addictions over the years, but have gotten to a comfortable place where I’m not driven by the daily quest for booze or powdered substances. My health is the best it’s been in decades.

Why, oh why, did I have to backslide?…

I have been diagnosed diabetic, but have avoided medications through diet and good behavior. Part of the good behavior has been to lose weight. At the first of the year, I went for a check-up and saw I’d GAINED TEN POUNDS. Not cool. Unless I want to sacrifice a body part to the sugar gods, changes would have to be made.

I declared a one-year moratorium on Costco muffins and Little Debbie products.

It wasn’t the actual products so much as their availability. I sit by racks full of both all night long. Costco muffins, specifically the double chocolate and apple/maple, are addicting as hell, especially when they are a day old or less. I knew the rotation, and such knowledge was hazardous to my health.

Little Debbie? They are bigger, better and half the price of their nationally-known competitor. I have a weakness for Fudge Rolls, and the delivery driver will sell me boxes off the truck for a dollar apiece. I can never NOT eat the whole box. See why I had to pull a Nancy Reagan and just say no?

The Little Debbie driver came by the other night, filled the rack, gave us credit for the throwaways. There were ten packages of tiny powdered white donuts, set to expire at midnight. Once credited, they were mine to dole out. I stashed a couple for Rumpole, a couple for Stuttering Richard so I can watch him nibble them down in his chipmunk style, and a couple for Dr T. I absent-mindedly tore open a package and tried one. Hmm… not bad for being almost expired. I’d expected severe dryness. There was still moisture!

As I stared at the last two tiny donuts in the package, I felt a lump in my stomach. (Not from the donuts.) It was that same feeling I have when I wake from a dream about drinking. Guilt.

What was I thinking? That was the problem, I hadn’t been thinking. Seven and a half months of pastry sobriety, down the dumper.

What shocked me most was my next reaction. Well… since I’m off the wagon, might as well live it up!

I went over to the Little Debbie rack, eyed the newer products, and settled on Apple Pies. Made with real fruit, according to the box. Dessert! After dinner I indulged, loving the sweet apple goodness, feeling the greasy build-up on the roof of my mouth. Was it worth it? Not really, but I’m not beating myself up over it either.

I’ve since crawled back onto my carb-control 12-Step program. (See Little Debbie’s or Costco muffins, take twelve steps in the other direction.) I’ve had a bit of sugar-laced indulgence, now it’s back to the carbohydrate-counting grindstone.

Grant me the power to accept the things I cannot change…

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