I am powerless to refrigerated cookie dough. When I go to the supermarket, I have no intention of buying it. I’m not even hungry. And I know exactly what I need and have no business being in that section. And yet I find myself there, staring at the packages. Triple chocolate? Brownie fudge? Peanut butter delight? I can’t decide. I’ll take all 3. Don’t worry I won’t eat them all. Not tonight, not all in one sitting. I’ll just have a few squares and keep the rest frozen for a future date. OK this strategy didn’t work last time. Or the time before that. Or in fact for the last 5 inches of my waistline. But it will work this time I am sure. And why shouldn’t it? Like I said, I’m not even hungry.
I question if this is a good idea. But I must make a decision. I can’t stand here all night blocking the dairy case. What if some old geezer needs the cottage cheese on the lower shelf? Not exactly my ideal for a reach-a-round.
Then I watch myself, as if in a movie, throw all 3 packages in my shopping cart and continue on my way.
But I’m not worried because I’m not even hungry. I will stick to my plan.
I check out and walk outside. It’s a fine chilly evening as I carry the bags to the car. I pack them in my boot, and as I reach up to close it, I see a shiny yellow corner peeking out from below a carton of Slim Fast. Which one is it? I’m not hungry, just curious. I pull it out. Hmm, peanut butter. Haven’t tried that one in a while. Is it the same as I remember? OK I’ll have just one little square. Well maybe 2, and save the rest for later. It’s fine because it’s a beautiful night perfect for a little treat, and haven’t I been good lately? Plus, I’m NOT EVEN HUNGRY.
I start the engine and fasten my seat belt. I pick up the package and read the label, as I have done a million times before: DO NOT CONSUME RAW COOKIE DOUGH. I know I am risking my health and possibly my life, but I proceed regardless. Maybe I have a problem, but I will not worry about that right now.
I carefully open it and break off a square…. Bite off a small piece. Hmm yes it is like I remember. Good but not my favorite flavor… somehow the peanut butter is always a slight disappointment… Why can’t I ever seem to remember that?
I finish the square and check my mirrors to back out. But first… didn’t I say I would have 2?
I find myself sitting in the parking lot, now dark and nearly empty. Pearl Jam ‘Daughter’ is playing on the radio. Three open cookie dough packages lie on the passenger seat next to me. I check: they are all empty. I have no recollection of what happened. I feel bloated.
Oh no, not again! Not again! Please god not again!! Oh god why have you forsaken me???
I wonder if the pain in my stomach represents the first stirrings of a deadly bacteria. Oh wouldn’t that be the ultimate irony! I map out in my mind the fastest route to the hospital. I did not intend for my evening to end this way.
But I remember what they told me last time and decide to head home. I will re-evaluate my plan if the pain becomes an “8″.
I drive home in an insulin induced stupor, nearly killing a family of 4 and possibly their dog. I feel bad about that. Even worse: will Lois withhold purrs and cuddles in spiteful retaliation for the delay in tonight’s feeding? I resolve then and there never to eat another bite of Satan’s chunky excrement. Never ever again. My life is out of control. I can’t keep doing this to myself or my loved ones. I need help!
And yet: I’ve made that promise many times before.
I think I’m ready to admit: I am powerless over refrigerated cookie dough. It controls my life. Even when I’m NOT EVEN HUNGRY.
Help me! Help me! Oh god of my (admittedly imperfect) understanding, please help me!! I will do ANYTHING!!!