A Chocolate Donut

I take my breaks outside, on the building’s ground floor sitting at a Starbuck’s table reading one of the two or three books I bring with me everyday to work. I save the entertaining reading for evenings and catch up on the instructive/didactic reading during work hours. I don’t usually buy anything to eat or drink while I’m out there. I only have ten minutes which I stretch to twenty…sshhh. Once in a while I grab a tea or an iced coffee but every time I walk in the coffee place, look at the baked goods, specifically this chocolate glazed donut, and think, maybe next week I’ll try that. But I never do. I use some excuse such as the diet, the sugar, no nutrition, it’s probably not that good anyway, someone probably spits on them, I don’t want the one in the back, too expensive for a donut, I don’t like donuts anyway, I’m not a cop so what’s the point, what if some single, available man sees me eating a donut, what if George Clooney stops in and sees me eating a donut; you know thoughts like that. Like we all have from time to time…

Yesterday, I had another train of thought: Go get that chocolate donut you’ve been looking at for two months. What I think prompted this was an incident that happened about a week ago. Around one in the morning, I was jarred awake literally by my bed moving back and forth. Now being a person who still has nightmares from when I saw The Exorcist 15 years ago, I thought this is it, I’m being possessed. Until I cleared the sleep from my eyes and realized, oh no, it’s an earthquake. I popped out of bed and stood in the middle of my living room, ready. Ready for what? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I’m glad I don’t sleep in the nude. By the time I figured out that if the shaking continued I should be outside with sneakers on, a jacket or robe and my purse and keys in hand, the shaking stopped and I went back to bed shaking until I finally dozed off.

The logic for this sudden change in thought went something like this: hey (I say that to myself a lot. “Hey”. It gets my attention. Otherwise I’d be typing away like I am now and…hey! sorry), you should go get that chocolate donut because if there’s another earthquake and you die then you’ll regret not having that donut. After 9/11, that is my thinking quite a bit these days. I mean, I don’t indulge in every whim or whine because of it, but it’s true. It’s just a donut. I don’t eat this stuff every day, in fact, I never eat it. I don’t have a sweet tooth. I have an Ann Taylor tooth. I have a lasagna tooth. I have a hot Italian bread slathered with butter tooth. You get the picture. A slice of cake or a hot Mercedes is not my problem. But the fact is that I take a lot less time deciding how to spend my time, treat myself, or put up with bullsh*%@t from any boss because of it. Life really is way too short. And I’ve spent half of it being undecisive and whiny already. So dammit, here’s my $1.60, gimme the donut! AND the iced coffee (only make it a tall, not a grande).

I’m so happy to say that the donut was terrific! It was moist and cakey with the glaze around it and crunchy to boot. Amazing. It made my day. So, I bought another one this morning. What the hell, it’s Friday and I’m celebratin’. Here’s the thing though, I’m sated. I’ve had enough donuts for awhile but I’m sure glad I indulged. Live a little right? Maybe that’s why I spent $120 at Ann Taylor at lunch. Come on, what if there’s another earthquake? I’ll be happy I bought the stuff. And I can wear it to bed and jump out and wander around my living room looking all fashionable before I run out into the street at one in the morning. Am I right? Right? Hey!