Look at me – I’m Brenda Lee!!!

(With apologies to the song writers of “Grease” fame and to the writers of “The Closer”.)

I’m supposed to watch my sugars. 

“Supposed to watch them do what?” you may ask. 

Not be anywhere near the vicinity of my mouth.

But I just can’t seem to help myself.  Most know that I have little self control.  I have a hard time telling me, "no".  And it's even worse when it comes to food (of any kind) that I'm not supposed to have.

I’m the department admin so I’m “responsible” for making sure that my little band of co-worker bees are happy AKA have swell treats on hand.  Which I do – in abundance.

I do try.  I keep the “good stuff” in another part of the office.  I keep a container of things I don’t particularly care for on my admin bar.  Less temptation.  Plus Starbursts stick to my teeth.  And make my tongue turn funky colors.  So it’s not a big threat.

However, the candy in the files area IS a threat to me.

So I sneak over there during the day and just grab a piece or two.  Toss it in my desk so that I can’t see it, shut the drawer, and pretend that I don't know it's there.  And for the majority of the time I’m just fine with that.  Until I hear those obnoxious little murmurings from my drawer.

“Eat meeeeeeee.”

“You want some of this?  You know you do!”

“These are snack size so they don’t count for much.”

I can usually sometimes ignore those promptings, that is unless I’m stressed, depressed, happy, sad, lonely, frantic, etc.  You get the idea.

I opened my drawer a few minutes ago and I can say is that Brenda Lee would be proud.  Candy of just about any brand that you can think of.  Even a few that I’ve never heard of before.  And for today those lovely little bite-sized chocolate candies will be my nemesis.  Tomorrow – who knows?  Maybe the bananas or apples or oranges that the building management supplies for us, but I doubt it.

But for now I’m licking my fingers, trying to catch every tiny little morsel so that it doesn’t land in my keyboard (what? You think I use canned air to clean once a week just to keep my desk in some semblance of order?  Silly.  Not even close.

Twizzlers used to have the slogan, “Makes mouths happy.”  Unfortunately I’ve discovered that they aren’t the only ones that are making me happy today.

I know.  I’ll pay for it later.  But this is a sad case of “I want what I want when I want it.”

Check on me tonight.  I’ll be the one passed out on the couch.