Why did I eat all those cookies?
I made two dozen cookies tonight just after I took a chicken out of the oven. I figured why not, the oven is already hot.
Well, so was the chicken. In the time during which I was letting it stand, the cookies finished baking. They were ready to remove from the trays almost right away, while the chicken was still doing its thing.
I was starving. The cookies smelled so good. Maybe just one, I thought.
The chocolate chips were still soft. Maybe another, while I transfer them onto a plate. And another.
I refocused on the chicken and prepping the plates and getting the soup started and placating the dogs. Okay, just one more cookie before we sit down for dinner.
Dinner was delicious and I was full, but afterward, while cleaning up, I had a few more cookies. I don’t know how many — I lost count.
But the thing is, I really don’t need any cookies. I was just hungry. And maybe a little tired and stressed out. Sugar is poison, and I am apparently back on that roller coaster. I feel like George in the opening scene of the Jetsons cartoon, “Jane, stop this crazy thing!“