Odes to the Things I Can No Longer Enjoy on My Damned Diet

Goodbye, up-for-grabs office doughnut
Well, this is awkward, isn’t it? Another time, I would have walked right up and jammed you into my mouth—whole, if no one was watching. But today I must keep my distance for fear that a wisp of your powdered sugar will rise up to my nose like pixie dust and end this diet as quickly as it started. Do I want to live in a world where adorable fried confections are bad for you? No, I don’t. Do I want to get rid of my lunch-lady arms? I really do.

Goodbye, whipped-cream-topped coffee drinks
A coffee drink, a sundae and an angel had a baby together, and that baby is you. Sadly my days of slurping your 50-calorie-a-straw loads of frothy mirth have ended. No longer will I enjoy the seven-minute burst of productivity that you so generously provided. Was your liberal topping of whipped cream and caramel drizzle a bit much? Sure it was. But I didn’t drink you for subtlety, I drank you because you made me truly happy. For seven wonderful minutes.

Goodbye, sandwich with mozzarella sticks in it
A triumph of gastronomy. A failure of humanity. You know very well that mozzarella sticks are a stand-alone appetizer, yet you violated societal taboo and turned an innocent sandwich into a delicious killing machine. You may be the bad boy of the hoagie community, but I don’t have the stomach for bad boys anymore, only for decent, god-fearing sandwiches with regulation ingredients.