Jelly beans are evil.
I innocently bought a big tub of Jelly Bellies. I have three children, three baskets, I need a lot of jelly beans.
Yes, I still do baskets even though my “children” are 20, 17 and 14. Don’t judge.
I bought them, I planned ahead and patted myself on the back. Then a couple of nights ago I was up late, I was writing. Writing is hard work and I was a little grumpy. The only things remotely yummy in the kitchen were almond butter and some blueberries that looked iffy.
The house was quite, everyone was asleep. I had just written what I thought were a pretty good group of sentences. I leaned back in my chair and that’s when I remembered the beans. I swear they smiled at me, dared me through that plastic bucket. I looked around, kind of like a spy, but more ridiculous.
I picked up the container and started to twist the lid. I told myself, like any good crack addict, that I would just have a few, just a small hit. As I took the lid off, I was saved.
There was a seal on the container. You can’t break a seal. Then it’s harder to just take a few and put it all back nice.
If the seal is broken the jig is up, the deed is done. I sighed, screwed the lid back on, turned away from the evil beans, and went back to work.
Less that an hour later, I reached a stopping point. I’d done some good work for the night and then I remembered I still had an episode of The Good Wife to watch on iTunes. I got a cup of tea and started the show. It would be a forty minute escape, a reward for my hard work and then I would go to bed.
As Alicia started to cry because stupid Will had to die, I felt the need for something. It was emotional and sad and I needed…the evil beans beckoned.
I looked over my shoulder, they assured me no one could see the seal. “Besides,” they all said, “you’re an adult, if you want a yummy snack, you should have one.” The beans told me they were low fat and that I had spin in the morning. They promised they would stop calling to me after a couple of small handfuls, a serving.
Seal came off, four handfuls (like the size of Shrek), were consumed that night and now I can’t stop. I’m almost to the half way mark of the container and I can no longer feel the roof of my mouth.
Last night I looked at the label on the tub and matched up the flavors as I ate them, like it was a game. I have these headaches and I brush my teeth twice before bed just to chisel off the sugar.
The evil beans won. The seal tried to save me, but I wouldn’t listen and now…now, I’m on the dark side. I’ll have to spin until Easter to keep my ass intact and there aren’t enough beans for the baskets now.
I mean there might be, but once you hit the half way mark, you might as well finish, right?
My thoughts from the laundry room. Do Not Eat Before Bed.