I officially stopped eating sugar on Friday, December 9. Right after my appointment with the surgeon and my abrupt decision to get in the best shape of my life. I figured cutting out sugar would be a fairly easy way to drop a few pounds, plus, after the three-donut day, something had to give.
Week one went by without a hitch. I'm not being insane about this sugar thing, just so you know. I am still eating soy yogurt with fruit at the bottom that I'm sure has a ton o' fun in it.
But, it hasn't been as hard as I thought it might be. I am eating better. My favorite treat so far? Take an apple and nuke it for 4 minutes. Um, yummmm!
I haven't even been craving the stuff. Saturday at the hairdressers they were giving away cookies and chocolate kisses and I almost went for it—outta shear (get it?) habit. I stopped myself just in time. So much of eating is shear habit. Free chocolate? Extend arm, open mouth.
So things have been fine with me going sugarless. It's not like I've been on edge or ready to hurt, maim, or kill anyone who gets in my way or anything. (I think I made someone cry at work last week though. Sigh. I will make it up.)
And today? Today was our annual $@!$%@~ cookie contest. In which hordes of people bring in cookies for the hordes of employees to taste and vote on, with winning categories such as "The Martha Stewart Award," (I won once!), or "Best-Named," (lame), "Most Original," (the cookie "emsemble" that resembled a cat's litter box, complete with cookie "litter" won hands down one year) and of course, the grand prize is "Best Tasting." If you win that, you get crowned cookie queen or king and get to keep the crown for an entire year.
Here's how it works: You get in line, and walk around a giant table, and sample, oh, 300 cookies, and then you vote. It's a Big Deal.
And I ... almost cracked today.
Didn't go. Didn't taste. Didn't vote.
Oh, yeah. Did I mention? I hate everyone.