Why do newsletters have to be so awesome all of the time? (a.k.a. Doughnut guilt.)


Hello Precious Readers,

For the past week, sweet hubby of mine, Pilot and I continue our clutter war and purge, purge, purged bags and boxes of items donated or properly disposed of if deemed unusable by another living creature on the face of the planet. Happy note: we are winning the clutter war. We’re 65% there and moving closer to 100% clutter-free each day. It’s been refreshing, liberating, and getting us closer to magazine-perfection clean of our apartment. I’m not talking about an hour here or there. No, not at all. I’m talking, the moment I reach home, I’m cleaning for 5 hours straight with a 20-minute break somewhere within that time to eat a small microwaved dinner from my freezer of leftovers.

This has replaced my scheduled home workout time, as I usually budget 1 hour of active, challenging exercise every other day. Hardcore cleaning includes the bending, lifting, throwing, moving, walking, running, etc. for hours straight.


I haven’t been health-minded the last 48 hours. Yesterday afternoon I spent time at a local coffee and doughnut shop with my friend, Caring* to enjoy a lovely almond and sour cherry doughnut with a soy americano, and catch up time with a bestie. The doughnut was smooth, pillow-soft, delicate, sweet, and every bite was heaven. The conversation flowed inside the shop while a Seattle rainstorm wreaked havoc on the world outside. Perfect afternoon.

Today, someone brought in doughnuts to the office.

I resisted.

Passing the plate 3 times, I didn’t touch them and resisted.

For crying out loud, I’d had a doughnut yesterday. I don’t eat them on the regular. I get them about 3 times a year as a treat for Pilot and I, but we aren’t regular sweet pastry eaters as we’ve been trying to go healthier each year making small, incremental lifestyle improvements so they stick. And they have, until today.

In the office hallway, in the background, the sound of voices wafted from the staff kitchen. A coworker ask another if he would eat one of the two doughnuts left on the plate. The other responded in kind saying he had already eaten THREE. (I had not had a single one.)

I couldn’t just leave those poor doughnuts all alone, could I? I took ONE doughnut. a simple doughnut with light chocolate frosting on top.  I didn’t even eat it right away. I momentarily stared at it sitting on the little paper towel, then let it sit at my desk for a good forty-five minutes.

The place I work at has a weekly newsletter with information going on across the board in all departments and levels. Some are feature articles, some are business-focused. Some articles are meant for full entertainment.

I waited…



and after doing a quick scan through the newsletter, I zipped through most of the articles reading them briefly, the headlines flashing across my screen. Then midway through the newsletter, I paused and glanced at the sugary goodness to my left.

There, the doughnut sat.

Innocent. Quiet. Haunting. Mesmerizing.

Daring me to eat it.

I could resist no longer.

I had been so good nutritionally and exercise-wise. Forty-five minutes after it had been resting at my desk, I gave in. I FINALLY tried a bite of the doughnut.

Mid-bite, the flavor of the cloyingly sweet treat filling my senses, my eyes lifted towards the blue-light glowing monitor of my computer and BAM! I was hit with the headline of the next article:

“Eat Healthy to Live Longer.”

WHY, OH FREAKING WHY does the weekly newsletter have to be SO helpful, thorough, engaging, entertaining, and completely and utterly guilt-inducing?

<Shakes rage-filled fist into the air, in “Khaaaaan!”-like manner.>

That is all. Happy Friday.

– KB

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