So, I have made it to the gym three days so far this week. You'd think that is a victory, and it is, on its own merits. However, I'd like to talk about the great force of evil that has settled into my work zone. That force is Halloween candy. Mother. Trucking. Halloween candy.
I knew it was only a matter of time before the evil force infiltrated into the inter sanctum of my work area, but I was hoping I had a little longer. This week, we had a vendor come in and bring swag for the online reps and when she left yesterday, she also left multiple bags of candy behind. Now, I've been mostly good this week. I've been bringing breakfast and lunch, eating low-carb and trying to drink more water. Sadly, Wednesday happened and I'm not going to lie, the fat girl inside me was like a school of hangry piranhas. I figure the fat girl inside me must be approximately eight years old. She was bouncing up and down, her pig-tails flopping as she jumped with glee and her over-developed boobs, complete with stretch marks due to premature hormones raging through her body, were also jumping up and down (sadly, that is also the age my boobs maxed out, never to get any larger. It's kind of effed up if you ask me). Her belly like a bowl of jelly and her thighs slapping as if they were clapping along to some sort of up beat pop song. She giggled with glee and clapped her hands. She wanted the candy. All the candy and nothing was going to stop her. That bitch was damn near rabid.
And, to make the problem worse, it was all chocolate stuff. MILK DUDS! Are you kidding me? They look like something a wild animal pooped and left in the woods, but as God is my witness, I see that little "fun sized" box and I know there are four little caramels wrapped in chocolate and I need them in my life. And it's just four of them and they taste so good and they get stuck in your teeth and give your jaw a workout and I cannot stop! I love Milk Duds and I'm not afraid to tell everyone! And then, because the little box is so small, I know it won't hurt anything to have a few more miniature boxes. I mean, they are practically diet candies when you consider the size of the box! Damn you, Milk Duds...Damn you. I'm powerless to control myself.
But wait, that isn't the worst of it. There are freaking Kit Kats in there! Who doesn't love a Kit Kat? I mean, gimme a break...gimmie a break...break me off a piece of that Kit. Kat. Bar. And again, they are like diet candies because they are just singles, little one piece single pieces...pieces of chocolate covering a crispy wafer. I love a chocolate covered wafer! The wafer is light as a feather, too, so again, it's just taking up air space, not really any solid space. Freaking Kit Kats.
Oh, and look at that, here are a bunch of M-F'ing Reeces Peanut butter cups, but mini-sized. Just one little cup per wrapper. Like, the size of a pencil eraser, really. I mean, so small. And, peanut butter is protein. Who the frick put their peanut butter in my chocolate? Who put my chocolate in their peanut butter? I can't stand the suspense!!! Freaking Hershey's did. I hate those assholes for making delicious candy!
Almond Joy. Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't, but you know what? I wanted a nut. And, it's an almond, which is totally healthy, surrounded by coconut, again SUPER healthy. Have you even read about all the healing power of coconut? If you haven't, you should! And, all of that health food wrapped in chocolate, which again, is magic. Chocolate is proof God wants us to be happy. There is no other plausible explanation for it. It's divine intervention in the human experience, if you ask me.
Now, I will say, I could give a shit less about the Whoppers and the Heath bars. What the hell is a Heath bar anyway? Gross, that is what it is. It has NO business in the assortment of candy. It's presence just makes it more obvious the other kinds are missing. It's bullshit. I'm going to write to Hershey's candy about it, actually. And the Whoppers, while not a bad choice, I cannot eat because the sugary inside hurts my teeth. It's an actual health hazard. I mean, dental hygiene is important.
Look, I know all this stuff is pure shit. It's made from artificial crap. It makes you fat, gives you diabetes, causes cancer, causes acne, causes inflammation and car accidents when you can't get the frigging wrappers open when you are driving. It's a veritable death trap. But the thing is, sugar addiction is real. I get it. But YOU try telling the little hysterical fat girl inside of me that she doesn't need it. I'll be honest, she's mean. I'm all calm on the outside, seemingly mature and in control of the situation, but eight year old obese Angry Pony, she is rioting and looting in my guts. I'm just standing there and then my hands are suddenly like Spiderman's web fingers. They just hover over the pumpkin bucket and my inner fat girl sends commands to my index finger and my thumb. She's like a cross between an alien and a crane operator. My arm is in there until it picks up the appropriate amount of loot and returns it to a safe place in my other hand. I don't even know how it happens, that little bitch is just in there with her arms ready to punch a hole through my belly to get to the candy quicker. Like, if you walk past my desk and see me sitting in my chair with octopus arms hanging out of my gut trying to grab onto any candy within reach, get the hell out of there. The more chocolate she eats, the more powerful she becomes. If she can punch her way through a pair of tights and an FCD (fat controlling device), she can surely take on civilian life forms.
The good news is, I've eaten most of the Milk Duds so they won't be there tomorrow. I mean, at least in the one bag. The other bags are in other locations. I hope I don't discover them, but if that inner fat girl goes looking, I don't know what I can do to stop her. If anyone has any ideas on extricating the little bitch, let me know, okay? If not, I gotta ride out the candy season and I don't think I'm going to make it. I'm throwing out a lifeline, people. Help.
I knew it was only a matter of time before the evil force infiltrated into the inter sanctum of my work area, but I was hoping I had a little longer. This week, we had a vendor come in and bring swag for the online reps and when she left yesterday, she also left multiple bags of candy behind. Now, I've been mostly good this week. I've been bringing breakfast and lunch, eating low-carb and trying to drink more water. Sadly, Wednesday happened and I'm not going to lie, the fat girl inside me was like a school of hangry piranhas. I figure the fat girl inside me must be approximately eight years old. She was bouncing up and down, her pig-tails flopping as she jumped with glee and her over-developed boobs, complete with stretch marks due to premature hormones raging through her body, were also jumping up and down (sadly, that is also the age my boobs maxed out, never to get any larger. It's kind of effed up if you ask me). Her belly like a bowl of jelly and her thighs slapping as if they were clapping along to some sort of up beat pop song. She giggled with glee and clapped her hands. She wanted the candy. All the candy and nothing was going to stop her. That bitch was damn near rabid.
 |
| I suspect she looks something like this... |
And, to make the problem worse, it was all chocolate stuff. MILK DUDS! Are you kidding me? They look like something a wild animal pooped and left in the woods, but as God is my witness, I see that little "fun sized" box and I know there are four little caramels wrapped in chocolate and I need them in my life. And it's just four of them and they taste so good and they get stuck in your teeth and give your jaw a workout and I cannot stop! I love Milk Duds and I'm not afraid to tell everyone! And then, because the little box is so small, I know it won't hurt anything to have a few more miniature boxes. I mean, they are practically diet candies when you consider the size of the box! Damn you, Milk Duds...Damn you. I'm powerless to control myself.
But wait, that isn't the worst of it. There are freaking Kit Kats in there! Who doesn't love a Kit Kat? I mean, gimme a break...gimmie a break...break me off a piece of that Kit. Kat. Bar. And again, they are like diet candies because they are just singles, little one piece single pieces...pieces of chocolate covering a crispy wafer. I love a chocolate covered wafer! The wafer is light as a feather, too, so again, it's just taking up air space, not really any solid space. Freaking Kit Kats.
Oh, and look at that, here are a bunch of M-F'ing Reeces Peanut butter cups, but mini-sized. Just one little cup per wrapper. Like, the size of a pencil eraser, really. I mean, so small. And, peanut butter is protein. Who the frick put their peanut butter in my chocolate? Who put my chocolate in their peanut butter? I can't stand the suspense!!! Freaking Hershey's did. I hate those assholes for making delicious candy!
Almond Joy. Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't, but you know what? I wanted a nut. And, it's an almond, which is totally healthy, surrounded by coconut, again SUPER healthy. Have you even read about all the healing power of coconut? If you haven't, you should! And, all of that health food wrapped in chocolate, which again, is magic. Chocolate is proof God wants us to be happy. There is no other plausible explanation for it. It's divine intervention in the human experience, if you ask me.
Now, I will say, I could give a shit less about the Whoppers and the Heath bars. What the hell is a Heath bar anyway? Gross, that is what it is. It has NO business in the assortment of candy. It's presence just makes it more obvious the other kinds are missing. It's bullshit. I'm going to write to Hershey's candy about it, actually. And the Whoppers, while not a bad choice, I cannot eat because the sugary inside hurts my teeth. It's an actual health hazard. I mean, dental hygiene is important.
Look, I know all this stuff is pure shit. It's made from artificial crap. It makes you fat, gives you diabetes, causes cancer, causes acne, causes inflammation and car accidents when you can't get the frigging wrappers open when you are driving. It's a veritable death trap. But the thing is, sugar addiction is real. I get it. But YOU try telling the little hysterical fat girl inside of me that she doesn't need it. I'll be honest, she's mean. I'm all calm on the outside, seemingly mature and in control of the situation, but eight year old obese Angry Pony, she is rioting and looting in my guts. I'm just standing there and then my hands are suddenly like Spiderman's web fingers. They just hover over the pumpkin bucket and my inner fat girl sends commands to my index finger and my thumb. She's like a cross between an alien and a crane operator. My arm is in there until it picks up the appropriate amount of loot and returns it to a safe place in my other hand. I don't even know how it happens, that little bitch is just in there with her arms ready to punch a hole through my belly to get to the candy quicker. Like, if you walk past my desk and see me sitting in my chair with octopus arms hanging out of my gut trying to grab onto any candy within reach, get the hell out of there. The more chocolate she eats, the more powerful she becomes. If she can punch her way through a pair of tights and an FCD (fat controlling device), she can surely take on civilian life forms.
The good news is, I've eaten most of the Milk Duds so they won't be there tomorrow. I mean, at least in the one bag. The other bags are in other locations. I hope I don't discover them, but if that inner fat girl goes looking, I don't know what I can do to stop her. If anyone has any ideas on extricating the little bitch, let me know, okay? If not, I gotta ride out the candy season and I don't think I'm going to make it. I'm throwing out a lifeline, people. Help.
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