Staring

The past few days have been surprisingly hard. In our apartment this week, we have instated a "No Treat Creed" and have sworn an oath to abide by it. It was my idea. I'll take the hits. But it was in response to the ABSOLUTELY EXORBITANT amount of desserts, treats, and other such sugary goods that are baked, created or otherwise made every day. Just last Thursday one of my roommate made cupcakes, Muddy Buddies, and sugar cookie dough (which is WAY harder to resist than cookies) in a single day. Times that by five, and I'm seriously in a bad way.

Therefore.

We are hereby swearing off treats for 7 days. It's day three. I'm still alive, but I feel like every chocolate morsel that graces every check stand in America is staring at me intently, prodding and teasing, "EAT ME." Never (or at least not until Saturday night when all bets are off.)

I think it's a curse. Every day thus far this week I have been offered birthday cake. Not just any birthday cake. Ice Cream Cake, Carmel Turtle birthday cake, and Mom's delicious white on brown, chocolate with vanilla frosting birthday cake (shout out happy birthday to Bryan and Andrew). But I have stayed strong. Even when there is no one around and temptation is at it's highest, I have resisted the urge to binge on chocolate for hours on end.

Honestly, it isn't THAT bad and it's an empowering feeling, but it's a disconcerting feeling to walk past the fudge stand in the bookstore and feel the big, brown, irresistible, chocolatey eyes staring from behind the counter, "eat me . . ." I really do wish the fudge would stop staring.