Holy Crap. So first of all, it’s been like 47 years since I posted anything, and for that I appoligize. For those few loyal readers left who still had faith in me, thank you. You’re in for a treat. Not really. I mean, this post isn’t a treat really so much as it’s about treats. Or more accurately, about eating too many of them.
So yeah. Here’s the deal. I’m hopped up on a lot of sugar. I mean A LOT of sugar. Like, 2/3 of my sugar consumption for the year happens in the three days leading up to Christmas. And the reason is almost entirely work-related. You see, in the three days leading up to Christmas, there is often a tragic and unavoidable convergence of events that almost always leads up to the exact same result. Namely, me feeling like crap and wishing I could travel back in time. Here’s how it happens:
Step 1: Everyone decides that since it’s the holidays, all things work-related lose any import and we all just wonder around the office aimlessly until we’re let out to enjoy our day(s) off.
Step 2: A few dangerous people in the office decide that they should make treats and bring them in to share with everyone.
Step 3: Bored people + endless food = bad.
Step 4: I eat so much sugar that I begin to feel sick and parts of my mouth are developing open wounds.
Step 5: I decide that the best way to counter this effect is to eat something salty. Fortunately for me, the junk food is boundless and LOOK! Someone brought in a bag of potato chips.
Step 6: Eat potato chips and realize this may have made the situation even worse.
Step 7: Decide that the only advisable thing to do at this point is ride it out. While blogging. Because, you know…that makes sense.
Step 8: Attempt to type something legible or sensical amidst a crashing rush of sugar-induced giddiness, light headedness and nausea.
Step 9: Finish blog. Pray for 5 o’clock. Pray hard. (also, this part hasn’t happened yet, so it’s kind of like I’m traveling into the future…)
Step 10: Thank god I made it till 5 without taking off like a crazy rocket ship straight through the fiber-glass and flourescent ceiling.
Step 11: Go home. Regret writing blog while rolling on sugar, but be perhaps a little glad that I did because now I’ll have a written record of it, which may discourage me from doing this again.
Step 12: Sleep it off.
Step 13: Get up, go to work, and do it all again. Realize I have no self control.
Crap. I’m sorry I wrote this. I already know I’ll regret it (see above) but I have no self control (also, see above.) Fortuately I had the good sense to run a spell check.

marinasleeps
December 21, 2010
Lol …you just described every office in America. No no the world!
As I was reading this, I started to put down a cookie a customer sent us. I feel the ache of chocolate overload.
Damn it to hell, the twitch is back!
John Eagan
December 21, 2010
At least it wasn’t in all caps with 15 exclamation points after everything.
girl normal
December 21, 2010
IT COULD BE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
girl normal
December 21, 2010
Sorry. I didn’t count the number of exclamation marks. Is that 15? I don’t know.
Bob
December 21, 2010
Arrrgh, I know your pain. Yesterday I was a victim of a drive by staff meeting. Somehow a “Few” platters of Christmas treats ended up in the meeting parked directly in front of me.
One turned into two, two into ten. Now I have a the rotten smile of a Charles Dickens character and the swollen belly of Scrooge. I don’t know how we make it through this every year. Egad!
Do try to have a Very Merry Christmas!!
Ho Ho Ho Santa Bob
denise:)
December 21, 2010
Only 5 more days til we can throw it all out… and take a long ass nap on Sunday.
Suzanna
December 22, 2010
I suddenly don’t feel so guilty for what all I ate yesterday because it wasn’t nearly that much.
Sank
December 24, 2010
My sugar consumption goes up exponentially as well during the holidays, especially when we’re spending a week at a time with the in-laws. Of course my sugar is being consumed in the form of alcohol, but it still counts.
kellycosby
December 30, 2010
I’m glad you wrote this – just to know someone else does what I do.