Being An Addict Sucks!

*note to readers: Since I have fourteen books with the word “sucks” in the title, I thought I’d name my posts in the same fashion and continue being known as “the girl who sucks” (a title my dad is none too thrilled about). 

If I'm going to be a part of your cyber life, there’s something you need to know about me.  It’s extremely personal and hard to admit but if we’re ever going to have an open and honest relationship, I feel it must be said.  Okay...here I go...I’ll just take a deep breath and admit it to the world...I'm an addict. Phew! I did it! I’m so relieved to get that off my chest and feel closer to you then ever!  What am I hooked on? It’s a desperate, all consuming need for the sweetest drug of all: sugar. I’m just mad for the stuff! I gotta have it all the time, and the more I have, the more I want! It’s a glorious glucose cycle that lifts my spirits and skyrockets me into a pre-diabetic coma of content!

Like most addictions, mine didn't happen overnight. As a kid raised in a disciplined home, dessert meant a juicy peach or crisp apple. And I was fine with that. Mother Nature is an excellent cook and could kick anyone’s ass on Iron Chef. But then I went off to college and a chocolate coated, cream filled world opened up to me. I was welcomed by a “make your own sundae” bar in the dining hall and a bulk candy bin at the student store! Like any college student I experimented. Not with threesomes or same sex smootching like other co-eds but rather with exotic treats like Nutella and Toblerone. Sure I developed “dorm butt” and gained the “freshman fifteen,” but that didn’t stop me from becoming besties with pushers like Little Debbie and Ben & Jerry. 

It wasn’t long before I was hooked onto the hard stuff like raw cookie dough and tubs of vanilla frosting and moved on to the dark side of addiction. Like Adam, my world changed forever after eating the forbidden apple (albeit mine was caramel coated and packed with mini m&ms).

After graduation I took a job in the entertainment industry where my addiction continued to grow. Luckily I could hide my secret from co-workers thanks to my stash desk drawer and a fortunate clothing trend of baby doll dresses. I knew I was going down a dangerous path and tried hard to quit, but I always lost the battle to warm Krispy Kremes and the intoxicating smell of fresh baked goods wafting from the craft service table.  

Now after decades of abuse, an undying popularity of damn skinny jeans, and a layer of fat that has spread throughout my body like a flesh eating bacteria, I’m ready to take control. As of today, I, Joanne Kimes, do solemnly swear to give up my love affair with sugar for the next thirty day. If I can make it through a month of dietary detox, I can finally kick my addiction and reset my taste buds to appreciate Mother Nature’s cooking once again. I’m going to rid my cupboards of anything sweet, including the yummy gummy vitamins I buy for my kid that I pop throughout the day like candy. And I’ll stop indulging on favorites like my towering frozen yogurt creations at Menchies that I wolf down with the rationalization that a woman my age needs lots of calcium. 

So wish me luck. Hope that I find the strength to pass on those giant size treats at Aroma, and the red velvet cupcakes at Big Sugar that go down smoother than twelve year-old scotch. I’ll keep you posted on how I’m doing while I face my demons. And if you see me this month with my head buried deep in a bag of bite-sized Butterfingers, inhaling the sweet smell of Halloween that I won’t be able to partake in, take pity on me and give me a smile. Just know that if you’re wearing a pair of those damn skinny jeans, I will not be smiling back.