Gotta Have It

I can’t stop thinking about it. Trying to avoid it only makes the need stronger. I’m craving it, jonesing for it. It’s my drug of choice and I’m helpless before it. I’m not talking about crack or heroin; I’m talking about sweets, the worst offender – chocolate.

I’m a cancer survivor and a lot of people have given me advice about what I should do to stay well. Friends and family have suggested everything from acupuncture to shitake mushrooms. A couple of people suggested macrobiotics. I’m an open minded gal, so I went to a seminar on starting a macrobiotic diet. I entered the lecture hall and saw a very frail man with sallow skin. I assumed he was a cancer patient who was there for the same reason I was. Then he got up and began the lecture! He was the expert in macrobiotics! Since I have no desire to resemble Mr. Burns from the Simpsons, I quietly snuck out of the room and headed for the nearest Burger King for a Whopper and a chocolate shake.

Before I tiptoed out of the lecture, I heard the anemic macrobiotics expert explain that sugar is a killer! He made it sound like the gangster of carbohydrates. He said it messes with your insulin levels and weakens your immune system. Say it ain’t so! Apparently there are people who believe that “Death by Chocolate” isn’t just the name of a tasty dessert, it’s a prediction.

A few weeks later another friend hooked me up with a medical intuitive (a psychic that specializes in health issues and healing). She had good news for me, she saw a complete recovery, but I would have to change my eating habits. She said lose the sugar. While I was happy to hear that she saw a healthy future for me, I was upset to hear that that future would mean no more Oreos or Twizzlers.

One has to address the quality of life issue. Is a life without Snickers worth living? Is there anything that can substitute for warm, freshly baked brownies? I know that there are people who have kicked some powerful addictions. You would think if Robert Downey, Jr. could stop getting high and sleeping in his neighbor’s kid’s bed, I could lay off the chocolate chip cookies. But how am I supposed to quit eating goodies when I can’t walk two blocks in Manhattan without passing a Dunkin Donuts or a Cold stone Creamery? Gourmet dessert trucks and cup cake bakeries are multiplying like apps for iPhones. Stop taunting me!!!

So where can I go to get this sugar monkey off my back? It’s not like I can go to Dr. Drew for Candy Rehab. Although, I would enjoy the group therapy, “Hello, my name is Barbara, and I’m a chocoholic.” “Hello Barbara.” “Before I came here, I was on an out of control sugar binge for two weeks. I hit Crumbs, Baskin Robbins and M&M World in one day! My husband had to drag me out of the Hershey’s Time Square store after I tried to jump into a fake vat of chocolate!” It would be so reassuring to hear from someone who was in it even deeper than me. Somewhere there’s somebody who has let gumdrops drag them down into the gutter where they’re laying face down surrounded by Nestles Crunch wrappers. Or even worse, there’s probably some poor slob who’s figured out a way to inject chocolate syrup right into his veins.

I would like to cut down on sugar, but I don’t think I could ever cut it out completely. It’s been like a friend to me, perking me up when I’m down. Granted, the perking up had to do with building up a pretty good sugar rush, but aren’t I entitled to one vice?

Hotel Starbucks

I dropped my daughter off at a play date, oh wait a minute, she’s eleven, so I dropped her off to “hang out” with a friend. I decided to stop into a Starbucks and treat myself to a fancy cup of coffee and hopefully get off my feet for a few minutes. Finding a Starbucks in Manhattan is easy; it’s like finding hay in a haystack. Within two blocks I was at one of the ubiquitous Starbucks that dot the New York City streets like freckles on Clay Aiken’s face.

Lousy economy or not, apparently people are still digging deep down in their pockets to shell out an extra few bucks for a little luxury in a cup. As always, the place was packed. I haven’t gotten a seat at a Starbucks since the first time Anne Heche was straight. I got my cup ‘a joe and looked around for a place to sit. As always, I was forced to walk past all those java squatters in their fluffy, comfy chairs and head over to the skinny bar by the window. Good for people watching, not so good for tired legs.

I noticed that the folks in the chairs seemed smug and self satisfied, like they had something I wanted, which was true. They slowly sipped their caramel macchiato, and I mean SLOWLY. It was clear that I wasn’t going to get near an open seat unless there was a fire drill.

Looking around I noticed everyone had large bags with them. They were the bags that had been filled with books, newspapers and laptops, which now covered their chairs, laps and tables. Then it occurred to me, “My God, people are living here!” It all made sense to me! They have everything they need, their computers, cell phones, food, yummy deserts, and of course, coffee. There are bathrooms and it’s warm in the winter and cool in the summer. You can “work from home” on your computer and you always have a place to meet your friends.

This must be what happened to all those people who lost their homes! They moved into Starbucks! It’s not that I’m not sympathetic, but when do I get to relax and enjoy my café mocha? The java squatters are forcing us to take our Latte’s to the street, or even worse, our own homes! That’s where we’re stuck with kids and spouses who bug us, where we can’t relax because every time we look around we see an unfinished project or something that has to be cleaned. When do our butts get their day in the sun? This trend will only get worse. It’s only a matter of time before Ronald, Mayor MacCheese and The Hamburgler aren’t the only residents of MacDonald’s!