Good thing I never did crack!
Did you ever smell something SO GOOD that its presence within your nasal cavity brought you close to orgasm? Something so delicious, that you clenched with everything inside you and had a full on frisson go down your spine, making you gasp? That’s me, walking past the open door of a bakery. The smell of bread, or cinnamon buns or anything with gluten in it can almost get me off.
Restaurants, while you’re waiting for your appetizers and main courses, will bring you a basket of fresh warm, saliva-inducing bread. Bread is now, and has always been, my downfall. I remember eating those buns that you could get from the deli department. The ones in the bins – big fluffy buns with airy delicious wheaty centres. I would just eat them with butter. Nothing else. No protein source anywhere close to the carbohydrate. Just pale yellow, delicious butter. Wolfing them down, already thinking about the second one before I had finished the first one. Pasta was the same. I could be half way finished with a bowl of spaghetti and jonesing for the second helping.
Trouble was/is I’m hypoglycemic and those sorts of carbohydrates metabolize into sugar faster than you can say “Oh God, Oh GOD – I want to hump this bread!” I basically get high off simple carbohydrates. Have a wheaty product with icing, like say, a cake, and you might as well roll me into rehab. At my office there is leftover cake from a weekend event. Approximately 18 pieces of cake slathered in icing remain in the box adjacent to our coffee area. I walk by this box at least a half dozen times in a day. It takes every ounce of self-control and Tourettes-like verbalization to stop myself. “Don’t do it! DOOOOOOON’T! Bad! Very Bad! SUGAR!!! BAD!!!” I may have, uh… devoured the icing off a side piece on Monday and then sat under my desk to wait for the effects to pass. The box needs to disappear.
