It's Been a Hard Day's Year.

I'll tell you the truth, since there's no one out there anyway, it was really hard some days. Whether it is just a southern thing or a female thing or just a thing in general, people often offer up food to friends, family, and even strangers with an understandable assumption that their delectable deliveries will be accepted graciously. The lucky recipients of these culinary delights are then expected, of course, to reward the goody-giver with gushing praise.

I am well acquainted with this dining dance, was a more than willing participant in the marathon of donuts, cakes, pastries, cookies and other treats that are now a staple in our office at work. However, what I was not prepared for when I started this experiment was the reaction I would receive by refusing, albeit politely, tasty treats so loving prepared by my friends and colleagues. The typical exchange went something like this,

"Oh, go on. Have some (insert your food fetish of choice). What's one little piece gonna do?" Or . . .

"What, you don't like my cooking?" Or . .

"Oh my God! You have to try this. It is amazing! You don't know what you're missing!"

This last one was--and still is--usually accompanied by almost orgasmic groans of oral satisfaction, as if the chocolate, sugar, or bacon fat was going straight from the eater's mouth to, well, you get the idea. All the while, there I am, drooling as I try to stay strong, keeping the words of that great role model of abstention close to my heart, "Just Say No." No small feat, I assure you, especially at the beginning, when I was still craving all those gooey goodies. Though my face wore a smile, and my mouth formed all the right words, the starving chubby girl trapped in my head was screaming out to be heard.

"You bitch! How can you stand there eating that in front of me? Don't you realize how freaking hungry I am? This stubborn cow hasn't fed me in days! If I don't get some chocolate and get it NOW I am going to kill her and then come after every single one of your skinny asses!"

Of course, I never let that evil girl out of my psyche. She was far too dangerous to be granted even a moment's furlough from the prison I had managed to create for her inside my brain. Instead, I would smile and nod, thanking the well-meaning saboteur, making my apologies for not holding up my end of our unwritten social contract, and make my escape as quickly and quietly as possible.