This week had been a tough week at work, we are talking ball busting, sailor swearing, throw all of your clients out of a two story window kind of week. Normally I am pretty energetic and not much puts me in a burnt out state of mind, but this week has brought me pretty close to that place.
The first thing I should really do is acknowledge something. I have to do this because, as you know, my daughter has struggled with addictions and I have been adamant with her that she do everything in her power (and mine) to kick her addictions and say no to her demons. After this week of work/client hell, I've had to take a step back and do some self examinations of my own regarding my own ugly little monster. I am going to own it, right here and now, with every cyber person reading this as my witness.
I AM ADDICTED TO SUGAR.
Every kind, every place, every where. We've been using it all week at work as a coping tool. Someone, at some point, decided that it would be a brilliant idea to bring industrial sized bins of Laffy Taffy to the front desk and the sugar inebriation has been continuous ever since. I decided on my own, as I began to notice that my pants were beginning to feel a bit snugger, that I would do a little research about the effects that all of this Laffy Taffy was having on my body. It turns out, (well duh) that the amounts of sugar that my body was adapting to consuming was having effects comparable to heroin, albeit in a smaller way. Yes, it is true, I have been drugging myself to cope with the demands of my job, and my drug of choice is SUGAR.
I decided that if I had the expectation of my daughter to kick her habits, then I could reasonably expect myself to get a handle on this. So, Thursday at work, I did my very best to stay away from everything that had anything to do with the evil white stuff. I watched as my coworkers collectively reduced that bin of loveliness to about half of it's original contents. (Seriously, in a tough week, the three of us can go through 2 of those 2 pound tubs. What is that, 15 or so Laffy Taffy's in a day per person? I do have to point out though that the jokes on those little death bombs are half of the fun.) Anyway, by the end of the day I had a monstrous headache and the shakes and by time I got home I was just jonesing for a fix. I ran to the store and grabbed the biggest piece of animal protein I could find and consumed it in hopes that it would satisfy the demands of my addicted cells. Nada. I craved a glass of white wine ( yep - alcohol is mostly sugar). Friday, I once again resisted until halfway through the day. I put a rubber band around my wrist and snapped myself every time I thought about my demon of choice.
Towards the end of the day, headache throbbing, I confided my in my co-worker and shared my shameful secret. She (a heavy smoker) laughed and shared her philosophy on kicking addictions with me, in summary it being that she doesn't believe in quitting anything cold turkey but feels that in my extreme case that a gradual decline would be more appropriate.
Of course, I caved and sighed with relief, anticipating the end of my headache. Quick Girl, pass the Laffy Taffy....
Oh yeah, I'm writing for Gawker now
5 years ago