Ah, the office donut. The scourge of the office weight-watcher.
It’s stressful, work. Stress creates a desire…no…a need, for the high-fat, calorie-dense, comfort treat.
And there it is. Looking at me. Calling me. Promising me happiness.
I know it lies. But I want to believe.
It’s a magnificent trickster. I watch its illusions. And I’m confused.
The office meeting
Someone brought in donuts. I hate that. And they aren’t the grocery store brand either, it’s the good kind. Ugh.
There are 8 of us in the meeting. We range in age and size, but we are all over 35. Some of us are thin. Others, like myself, fill in the office chair quite completely.
I’m determined to avoid the donuts. I hope the others eat them quickly to remove the temptation.
Mike grabs the first one. He’s rail thin. Bony, even. He can afford it. He also grabs the second one.
Brenda is late for the meeting, as usual. She grabs a donut. She is a thin woman. She’s always eating. She brags about how it’s hard for her to gain weight. Poor Brenda.
Juan grabs one, Jeff grabs one. Both average-sized, dad-bod types. Not heavy, nor lean.
Mike and Brenda each take another. I think Brenda has frosting in her hair.
Tina breaks a donut in half and nibbles her half slowly. She looks guilty. Mike shoves the other half in his mouth. He licks his fingers.
Brenda comments on how she had a big breakfast, she’s so full, and starts another donut.
Myself, Julian, and Paula, the three heaviest in the room, abstain.
I analyzed the data. The thinnest in the room ate the most donuts, the heaviest ate the least. It was a perfect inverse correlation.
Why?
After 3 years of office meetings and office donuts, the pattern is the same. And the thin attendees are still the thin attendees.
What does it mean?
I hate office donuts.