I am not one for the sweets; I seldom if ever take dessert. No sugar is added to my tea or coffee. Daiquiris and fruit juice-based cocktails are avoided. I adjure dressings and sauces which contain high fructose corn syrup. My diet is as sugar-free as can be.

With that said I go into a periodic sugar frenzies.  ike a full moon to a werewolf, they are not often but just as intense.**

This evening I had a sucrose attack and I blame Someone. While dictating charts I could hear him watching “Charlie and the chocolate factory”.  The nonstop references to candy and sweeties made me unable to focus on the charts. So it was off the the kitchen.

Alas, we don’t buy sugary rubbish. There is nothing so infuriating than wanting something bad to eat when all there is are vegetables. Mercifully Sloth vetoes Lust which prevented me from driving to the grocery store for the family-sized bag of Life Savers and/or Skittles. Damn! There was nothing in the fridge; there was only fish and vegetables in the freezer. In the pantry I found some dried apricots; these were devoured quick as a quarter note. Alas they did not satisfy; I wanted unadulterated glycemic index from hell sweets.  I was wondering about a spoonful of sugar from the sugar bowel, when – lo! – there they were! : a couple of candy canes from last Christmas! My eyes widened. A smile broke upon my face with the radiance of a brilliant sunrise. For a split-second I wondered why on earth did we save them, and were they past their prime?  Such cosmic questions are moot, of course; Hunger is the best cook, after all.  They were toast.

To remove the plastic wrappings was a bit frustrating, for they had melded onto the canes in the Arizona heat. But I was soon exclaiming little grunts of pleasure only chocolate aficionados would recognize.

The canes are consumed; Mr. Hyde is slowly metamorphosing back into Dr. Jekyll. My sugar rush is over – for a while.  When is the next full moon, I wonder?

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** Werewolves has wolfsbane; I have gummi- bears.

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