No matter how much I try to escape it, it always seems someone at the office is going to hunt me down and make me eat a donut.
Them: Hey we bought donuts! Have one!
Me: Oh, that's okay. I'm trying to watch what I ...
Them: C'mon!
Me: Fine
Them: (4 donuts later and wondering how I was sleepwalking and eating more donuts) Hey, did you hear there were donuts in the breakroom?
Me: Yeah, actually I ...
Them: C'mon!
Me: But ... fine.
At this point we can skip the remaining dialog and go forward to the point I ate a full baker's dozen donuts and was found under my desk in tears (it's happened - you can ask my friend Ryan). It's nice to have donuts, but I have found I just can't be around them. Donuts, if you are reading this, first of all, wow. That's impressive. Learning to read given your short life-span , not to mention being made of dough and sugar. Second of all, please leave me alone. You are evil and I don't want to see you again. I think you should take your ... hold on. Someone has just informed me there are donuts in the break-room. I've got to go.
1 comment:
A break-up letter to food:
"Hey Food,
We had some good times huh? I don't think we can keep going like this. You tempt me with your sweetness and then just hurt me. I can't be hurt anymore. I have to think of my kids now. Please don't come to my house anymore. It scares the children and the police are getting tired of the phone calls. Maybe we can get together later after you've stopped being so bad for me."
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