Achoo!

This is why I don't eat panda meat.

A Banana in My Box

As if there isn't enough temptation in my life already with all the alcohol and the food and then there's the alcohol I was talking about, some good-intentioned stranger drops off a box of sugar and thunder thighs for the taking at work. I tried to not even look at the pastries once I heard about the little fat-demons waiting for me in the break room. However, every five minutes someone new comes to my desk and says, "Did you see the pastries in the break room? Yum! So many different choices! SO MANY CHOICES!!!"

At first I was like, "REALLY?" equally ready to wheelbarrow all that I could to my desk. But then I thought about the little banana at my desk. What a condescending little jerk. It's saying, "Shouldn't you stay away from those guys, Sharon? I'm so much better for you. But if you want to be a fat ass, then be a fat ass. It's up to you.
***whistles and shuffles its feet***"

I figured instead of stuffing my face, I may as well be healthy and have the chance to bite the head off of my banana with its rude, imaginary dialogue.

So I did it. I ate the banana and not one piece of pastry.

Banana - 1 Pastry - 0

To make myself feel as if I was cheating, I set my banana in the pastry box before eating it as if I had just grabbed a pastry instead. This kind of eating psychology may seem ridiculous and unnecessary, but you don't live in the same world as I do. My world is full of talking bananas, tap-dancing corn dogs and singing M&Ms.