Shameful

The girls at Bank of No Forks are our own worst enemies. Every Monday we all show up for work with dieting on our minds. There is grumbling by noon on Monday. Tuesday there might be a slip. Wednesday shit happens. Thursday we abandon all hope. By Friday we hate ourselves.

Take for instance yesterday. The Worlds Greatest Receptionist (henceforth referred to as WGR) and I went to fetch lunch. We got excellent chile lime salads. Very healthy. On the way back to the office, less than a mile away, she says, “I want cake. CAAAAAAAAAAKE.”

Me, being the good friend that I am say, “Where from?”

She can’t make up her mind. She’s straining to think of a nearby bakery.

I take pity on  her. “I know of one. The secret bakery.”

“The secret bakery? What’s that?” she says. I can see suspicion on her face.

“A bakery that is a secret.” I try to act nonchalant. She gives me a quizzical look, and I cave. “It’s a secret cause that’s the bakery Ava and I go to and don’t tell you about.”

So now she’s pissed. Betrayed, and rightfully so. I direct her to the place and she’s in love. We brought back three giant slices of cake to share with the girls.

Now its Wednesday. I thought we were doing very well, diet wise. Ava had been in an absolutely FIERCE mood after dealing with the Cadillac dealer first thing in the morning. (Just a hint to GM and the guys over at the dealer – we just finished watching Breaking Bad and I’d be careful if I was you. Don’t use any Truvia is all I’m saying.) I’m freaking out over the book I’m trying to finish on schedule. WGR was feisty probably out of solidarity with the rest of us.

I went to take The Bandit to the doctor. This is the first text I got while in the waiting room.

 How can this be ignored?

This is just a sampling. Another followed and another and another. Not long after this barrage, I got a text from someone else in the office. Someone who doesn’t usually participate in this nonsense. When she texted her wishes, I couldn’t very well ignore the nicest person in the building.

I got no less than fifteen text on the topic of donuts. You see all the donut emojis?

Don’t you love the pictures of the fruit with the “none a dis!” comment?

We’re a hopeless mess.

Honestly.

So I did. I found us donuts. I told the checkout person I lost a bet, I was so ashamed.

And we ate them.

Donuts filled with sorrow.