I Heart Atkins

I have two coworkers. Two. They are both roughly 35, with families and kids and pets and one of them, FRANZ, has two peacocks which I've never seen but nonetheless beleive exist. We work together and it's nice, mostly because we keep a small unused desk constantly full of donuts and different kinds of coffee and cookies and brownies and peanuts and all good things. And, as I said, there are only three of us, so it's not like those bear claws are gone in a day. They could last a WEEK. That arabian coffee could be here ALL MONTH. And our greatest teamworking effort is keeping the desk stocked. We don't even discuss it. The second we're out of M&Ms, TED happens to bring more in. The second the milk gets low, FRANZ comes through with a two-liter. We all do our part. It's unspoken. It's amazing.

Anyway, a while back FRANZ and his family made a New Years resolution - "We will only eat sweets on the weekends" - not only to help stay in shape but also to establish a working system of discipline and community within their growing family. I thought it sounded like they were asking for a collective binge and purge attitude, but apparently it's been working fine. Problem was, as soon as this resolution was made, FRANZ was out of the candy desk picture. He no longer contributed and he no longer consumed. It was just TED and me.

We did good. The smaller, handful-type candies (Skittles, peanuts, brittle) were scarce - they had been FRANZ'S territory - but the Krispi Kreme selection did not waver for a moment. And to make FRANZ jealous, TED started bringing in pies, which were delicious. So the candy kept coming, while FRANZ sat eating his peach and salad, everyday. That's how it went for a year.

Now let's rewind about a month. It is this past New Years Eve, and TED turns to his wife at the stroke of midnight - "I think we should do that candy diet thing that FRANZ and his family do. He looks great! He's as happy as ever!" - and TED's wife says - "Okay!" - and they hug. So TED walks into work on whatever day we went back to work on after the break and tells me that he, too, will no longer be taking part in the candy desk and I am truthfully - truthfully - betrayed.

This entire month I have been filling an entire desk with candy that only I eat. Slowly and surely, the desk is falling apart. There are no more Ring-Dings. There is never any more milk.

That is what I hate.