A friend and co-worker worker of mine did something horrible today: he brought in fresh-baked, chewy, soft, chocolate chip cookies.
Do you know how long its been since I've had a decadent dessert or treat? I had Applebee's after my Half Marathon, and I had waffles after my 15k, but since then, nothing. At treat for me lately is fruit and yogurt for dessert, or something equally healthy.
But I wanted that cookie. Oh, I wanted that cookie like 14-year old me wanted to touch a boob: with my entire being. I visualized the taste, the texture, the melt-in-your-mouth goodness of the chocolate, and how good it would taste with my coffee.
(Yes, coffee. Fuck milk and cookies. I'm a Dairy Guy who hates white milk - oh, the irony.)
I broke down. I succumbed to temptation.
Not only did I demolish that cookie, but one of it's sisters as well. It was a whirlwind of crumbs and teeth.
And it felt good.
Do I feel guilty? Well, sorta. But I justify it with the 10km run I did this morning, the apple I ate at lunch, and the fact that I just wanted it.
So there - I've confessed. My shame has been made public, my crime brought to light. It's like a weight has been lifted of my chest.
Confession is good - and tasty.