I made peanut butter blossom cookies for SwampMan today, something that I absolutely cannot eat. But I absolutely love them. They were sitting in the kitchen on a plate, all warm and peanut buttery smelling. The Hershey kiss on top was soft and delicious looking. Must. Resist.
Some of you that know me know that my resistance to Things That Are Bad For Me is a little, well, uh, underexercised. Yeah. That’s it. Take, for example, my job. I barely cover my expenses with my salary, but let myself get guilted into continuing to do it. I could earn more money, which I badly need, by doing just about anything else. Like what? Well, I think I would earn more money spraying for roaches for a pest control company. I hate them things. It would be pretty satisfying to go home at night knowing that because of me, somebody will not have a roachburger at the local fast food restaurant. Maybe I should look into that. But no doubt my employers would try to talk me out of it by telling me how sad it would be for the children who would, no doubt, in reality be ecstatic at my departure. It is just that my employers would have a hard time getting some other sucker in there for that low a salary.
If I can’t even walk out on a job that is bad for me (and giving me frowny wrinkles), what sort of resistance am I likely to put up to warm, delicious cookies that will give me severe intestinal problems after they’re ingested? Except maybe this time they won’t. Maybe I’m cured. Maybe that whole gluten intolerance stuff has gone away. Maybe just three cookies won’t hurt……
I’m supposed to be cooking and wrapping and cleaning today. Too bad that I’m sitting in front of the computer, tapping on the keys and periodically doubling over in pain, hoping that I’ll be back to “normal” in a few hours.
Maybe the dressing and gravy on Christmas day won’t affect me. Maybe it’s just the cookies…..