Well, it's happened. I know it can happen to anyone, and no one is really ever safe. It's one of those things you see in movies, or on tv, or in the news, but you think surely will never happen to you. And yet, here I am, totally confronted head-on with this demon, and feeling completely powerless. I know the saying is to just-say-no and walk away, but how can I? I know my mama raised me better than this. I know my daddy would want me to be courageous. I know all of these things, and yet, here I am. Of course, I'm referring to that wicked evil temptress otherwise known to society as GIRL SCOUT COOKIES.
Known on the streets simply as GSC.
IwentthroughhalfaboxofSamoaslastnight. There, I said it. Had to say it fast, like ripping off a band-aid Please, judge me. I need the punishment. Hi, I'm Ashley, and I'm a girl-scout-cookie-aholic. Thank you, Ashley, welcome to group....What's wrong with me? Have I no self control? And how do they jam that much awesome into those tiny cookies? Magic, that's all I can figure. And possibly the use of laser beams.
Obviously, girl scouts have powers beyond any discipline I can muster.
Every year around this time they control my thoughts and my wallet. At every Lowe's and grocery store around, there they are, taking their spots on the corner to wheel and deal. I can't avoid the corner. You know how it goes. Just one box, just one cookie. And once I'm there, I'm forever chasing that rabbit. It's never as good as that first time, and I need more and more. The gateway for me was Samoas. Then I had to get something harder. Thin mints, Tagalongs, Savannah Smiles...The corner kills.
We all know the warning signs...
You started lying to the dentist. You don't know how those cavities got there.
You get defensive. I can stop when I want to, I just don't want to yet.
Your efforts at work plummet. You show up late, you leave early, or worse... you leave at lunch to have a quick cookie fix, and return on the job completely sugared.
You become isolated. Before long it's just you in an empty room with your Thin Mints and the curtains drawn, while your hand reaches over and over again to the box that was empty an hour ago. Curses.
You push away loved ones. "Come down for dinner honey! "..."I'm NOT HUNGRY, leave me alone!" you say from chocolate teeth.
You begin hallucinating. Weather man "It's going to be 70 degrees with a chance of THIN MINTS today".. what did he say? The wind outside clearly whistles thiiiiiiiiin miiiiiiiiints and haunts your sleep.
You can barely get your shoes on without wondering where that next cookie will come from...
I guess I should finish up my boxes, you know, one last time. Then I'll quit, cold turkey. Maybe. In all seriousness, I love me some GSC. Go get some, because misery loves company.
