Workin' For The Sugar

According to a new research study, refined sugar is far more addictive than cocaine -- one of the most addictive and harmful substances currently known. An astonishing 94 percent of rats who were allowed to choose exclusively between sugar water and cocaine, chose sugar. Even rats who were addicted to cocaine quickly switched their preference to sugar, once it was offered as a choice. The rats were also more willing to work for sugar than for cocaine.

I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!

It explains my powerlessness over the white stuff ( sugar). Oh, the stories I could tell…..one for every day of the year. I could set up a blog dedicated to the ridiculous stories of my off and on again addiction to sugar.

I’m actually a very healthy, organic, whole grain eater, who at one time taught classes on nutrition and herbs. But when I get an itchin’ for the tingles of sugar – watch out! Once, I bought a bag of caramels to make my annual caramel apples. I opened the bag to eat one, and ate the whole bag in two days. A couple years ago, I bought PopTarts on a whim. After eating one, I hid the rest of the box in the back of the cupboard. One morning when I found it hard to get out of bed, I remembered that I had those PopTarts. I nearly sprained my ankle tumbling down the stairs in my haste to get to them. And for my craziest trick ever, I ate almost an entire box of Lucky Charms in one night. Don’t Ever Do That! I’m not sharing any details – I just need you to trust me on this one!

My desire for the sweet stuff stems from childhood rebellion. I was not always allowed to have the sugar, so I made it my mission to get the sugar. My sister and I used to play house when we were children. We would sneak to the basement freezer and fill our tea kettles with mini-chocolate chips. Our mother thought we were just pretending to drink tea, but we were getting high on the sugar! Once, when I was in danger of being caught in the act of stealing the morsels, I ran with an obscene amount of mini chips rolled up in my shirt, from the basement to the bathroom – because no one can disturb you in the bathroom. My initial plan was to eat ALL the chocolate before leaving the room, but it proved to be too much, so I moved on to Plan B. Plan B ended in disaster because chocolate chips CANNOT be flushed down a toilet – who knew? And Plan C was all about hiding the evidence - which meant opening the bathroom window, tossing them outside, and hoping my father didn’t notice the chocolate valley that formed on the grass. Essentially, I was a little baby rat working hard for my sugar. But what’s my excuse now?

I like to believe I’m above the rats, because I wouldn’t work for sugar. But if I think about it - I go to work, I get paid money, and with that money, I buy me some sugar! Somebody stop me!!!