Monday, April 23, 2012

Coming Clean...

Hello. My name is Melie Vincent and I haven't had sugar for four months.

Reader response: 'Hi, Melie'

Insert awkward silence as I stare at my shoes and try to focus on how very stylish and cute they are. They were a killer deal. Something ridiculous like 85% off.


Were they really that cheap or is that just what I told my dear, sweet husband?

Oh, the lies! I can't take it anymore!

ALRIGHT! FINE! You people win! I fell off the wagon three weeks ago. Ah, I'm so ashamed!

It all started with an innocent chocolate macaroon. Not even a whole macaroon, mind you, but a morsel. A wee bite calling to me from a display with samples at Whole Foods. Three weeks later I'm drinking fruit juice and pounding down gluten-free cupcakes. What the hell? By next week, I could very well be on the streets, begging for gluten-free cookies.

Curse you, Sucrose! You are the crack cocaine to my inner junkie. You call to me with your decadent siren song. An unholy melody that emanates from dastardly desserts and sweet snacks. Once I'm singing your tune, I can't avoid you. You are everywhere and I greet you with apprehension, happiness even, but leave you in shame and anger. Like a movie starring Henry Cavill, I need not know the quality of the product in which you are found, I only need to know that you are featured. You are my nemesis. You are my downfall and you are so often my undoing.

But, not this time! I may have let you pass my lips for three weeks. You might sit on my hips for a couple more, but you will not win! Nope. I'm dropping you like a worthless boyfriend. That's right. You will not steal my energy or make me feel bad about myself anymore. Come to think of it, it's none of your business if I have a carrot for a snack or bake a naturally-sweetened treat. You are out of my life for good. So, don't drunk dial me when I'm walking through a convenience store. Don't drive by my house at random times to watch me prepare salad for my family. It's over. We are through. Goodbye. Good riddance. My friends will pick up my things. I'm out of here.

Dang it. Someone play some Adele and get me a celery stick.

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