Coming from a family with addiction problems, I don't know why this should have come as such a surprise to me. I guess I was in denial.
I've shown amazing control with my Weight Watcher support system, going to the meetings each week, being careful and responsible for what goes down my throat. So....I figured I could order a birthday cake for my party. I'd even have a small piece to celebrate. That was the plan anyway.
I knew I was heading down the slippery slope when I could hardly sleep the night before thinking about the cake, the edges with the rim of frosting, the corners with the most frosting...the roses. Mmmm. My one little piece will be glorious. I will eat it slowly and savor the delicacy of the taste. That was the plan.
Towards the end of the party, after ignoring the chips and having a lighter fare off the menu, it was time to indulge in "the cake". I had my eye on the corner piece with the roses all day long...like a hooker singling out the next trick. I had a piece. A small piece. Then, since it really was quite small...I had another.
There was a good deal of cake left over that I brought home. I had planned to send it with family, but by the time I finally got home, they had skipped town. She Devil probably drove them out. So, now it's just a quiet night with the cake and I. What the heck...I'll have another piece. It is my cake after all. I'll take the rest to Salvation Army or something tomorrow.
By bedtime there wasn't enough to bother taking anywhere. It was a mutilated heap of cake and frosting. My brain was short circuited with a sugar buzzed haze telling me if I ate it really fast the calories couldn't add up that well. All logic and caution was tossed to the wind.
Nighttime was horrible. I had a headache, was shaky and somewhat nauseous. I literally had "the shakes" from the sugar overload. Wow! This evil concoction has GOT to go first thing in the morning.
Morning finally came and I was once again face to face with my nemesis. I rationalized that I could have one small piece for breakfast and then take it outside and dump it for the chipmunks and squirrels to feast on. Yeah, yeah...I can quit any time I want. I can handle this. I ate my "breakfast" piece...well, actually it couldn't have disappeared any quicker than if I'd snorted it, and I carried the cake outside.
Five minutes later I carried it back in because there was still some frosting along the edges that I'd missed. Is this what if feels like to be hooked on crack? Are bakeries really just sugar meth labs in disguise? I stood at the kitchen counter and shoveled it in into my gaping mouth. Oh this is so SICK!
I grabbed the white bakery box and ran out the back door as quickly as I could with my sugar shakes and tossed it on the ground...being very careful to make sure it was frosting side down. I'm sure I would have sat there in the dirt and scooped up any frosting to eat if I hadn't disposed of it this way. Even now as I sit and watch the birds and squirrels party on my cake I feel the twitching of withdrawal pains.
So, there you have it. I am a sugar junkie. I'll have to see if there's a twelve step program or meeting for my kind.
My name is the Queen Jester and I am a Cake-aholic.
I've shown amazing control with my Weight Watcher support system, going to the meetings each week, being careful and responsible for what goes down my throat. So....I figured I could order a birthday cake for my party. I'd even have a small piece to celebrate. That was the plan anyway.
I knew I was heading down the slippery slope when I could hardly sleep the night before thinking about the cake, the edges with the rim of frosting, the corners with the most frosting...the roses. Mmmm. My one little piece will be glorious. I will eat it slowly and savor the delicacy of the taste. That was the plan.
Towards the end of the party, after ignoring the chips and having a lighter fare off the menu, it was time to indulge in "the cake". I had my eye on the corner piece with the roses all day long...like a hooker singling out the next trick. I had a piece. A small piece. Then, since it really was quite small...I had another.
There was a good deal of cake left over that I brought home. I had planned to send it with family, but by the time I finally got home, they had skipped town. She Devil probably drove them out. So, now it's just a quiet night with the cake and I. What the heck...I'll have another piece. It is my cake after all. I'll take the rest to Salvation Army or something tomorrow.
By bedtime there wasn't enough to bother taking anywhere. It was a mutilated heap of cake and frosting. My brain was short circuited with a sugar buzzed haze telling me if I ate it really fast the calories couldn't add up that well. All logic and caution was tossed to the wind.
Nighttime was horrible. I had a headache, was shaky and somewhat nauseous. I literally had "the shakes" from the sugar overload. Wow! This evil concoction has GOT to go first thing in the morning.
Morning finally came and I was once again face to face with my nemesis. I rationalized that I could have one small piece for breakfast and then take it outside and dump it for the chipmunks and squirrels to feast on. Yeah, yeah...I can quit any time I want. I can handle this. I ate my "breakfast" piece...well, actually it couldn't have disappeared any quicker than if I'd snorted it, and I carried the cake outside.
Five minutes later I carried it back in because there was still some frosting along the edges that I'd missed. Is this what if feels like to be hooked on crack? Are bakeries really just sugar meth labs in disguise? I stood at the kitchen counter and shoveled it in into my gaping mouth. Oh this is so SICK!
I grabbed the white bakery box and ran out the back door as quickly as I could with my sugar shakes and tossed it on the ground...being very careful to make sure it was frosting side down. I'm sure I would have sat there in the dirt and scooped up any frosting to eat if I hadn't disposed of it this way. Even now as I sit and watch the birds and squirrels party on my cake I feel the twitching of withdrawal pains.
So, there you have it. I am a sugar junkie. I'll have to see if there's a twelve step program or meeting for my kind.
My name is the Queen Jester and I am a Cake-aholic.
I know what you mean. I'm that way with a Mounds candy bar. I looooooove them!!! And chocolate covered cones!!!!! How about maybe trying a carrot cake made with a non sugar sweetner and Kool whip frosting next time? It's really yummy!!
ReplyDeleteDo you know of a good substitute for Mounds bars or my ice cream cones?
Have a great day, hugs, Edna B.