Lead me not to temptation, for I am a gluttonous whore

So, yesterday, everyone in my office called in sick. The nurse, the manager, the parttime secretary, everyone. So it was just the Dr. and I. I was feeling pretty shitty, since I had an overwhelming amount of crap to accomplish.

I went to the conference room where my fellow peons congregate to talk smack about one another to get some water and lo! a box of chocolates. Now, I am on a diet du jour, but figured, screw it, I'm having a crappy day. So, I snarf down eight pieces.

Fifteen minutes and about ten hiccups later, I'm sitting at my desk, have three patients on hold, am trying to transcribe a ten page long diatribe on the nature of sperm, and it occurs to me, hey mayhaps them tasty chocolates were so frickin' tasty 'cause they were full of BOOZE. I don't drink. I rarely drink. I hardly every drink. Anyhoo, needless to say that my tongue became possessed by the booze fairy and I basically talked non stop from about 1:30 until I left at 5:20. I don't particularly remember what I was saying...suffice to say I was a bit worried when I came into work today.

Last night, on our way out, my friend told me she was going to make me brownies. 'Cause I wanted brownies. And I'm a princess. I came in today, all excited about the imminent brownie goodness. Wouldn't you know, she didn't make the brownies?

She said she felt bad. I told her she should, because she had been promising me for days that she would make me brownies, and she's the best brownie maker in the world, and now that it's Friday, and since I leave the city on the weekends, I was going to have to suffer brownieless over the weekend, unless, of course, I go to Shop Rite and get one of their nasty, dry, crumbly and not at all chocolaty brownies. I need ooey gooey goodness, man. I need the hookup.

As a jewess, I felt the need to both guilt my friend and martyr myself simultaneously, but in the end, since she's mormon and can't handle the intensity of my jewish guilt because mormons are inherently nice, good people, I told her "honestly, the Christ-like response would be that you know I'm trying to diet, and you're being a helpful friend and not providing me with temptation. You're leading me not to temptation. See, Christ-like."

Furthermore, my mania is rearing its ugly head today, and I'm literally buzzing in my seat. Eh, maybe that means I'll get some work done today. Or maybe it means I'll get into a throwdown with someone.

I could sure go for a gooey, chocolately brownie right about now.