My name is John...

There’s good news and there's bad news.

The good news is that my workouts are going very well. Only on the very first day did I see the specter of death looking over my shoulder. He was pointing his bony finger at me as I did squat thrusts while holding these torturous weights called kettle bells. I managed to avoid the scythe that day, and he hasn’t returned.

I am very pleased with the project.

On the other hand, I just can’t stop eating.

My stomach is a bottomless pit. There is no end to my gluttony.

Tonight, there is a box of Girl Scout Thin Mints here at work. I am the only person who knows where it is and it really isn’t mine to share, but it is mine to dip into. I could eat the entire box. I won’t because someone else ate one sleeve already, so that only leaves 720 calories for me.

I could do it.

Now, I had a delightful salad for dinner, so that’s not going to kill me. But the rest of those cookies just might.

And then there’s the risk of something else sweet coming into the newsroom.

I’ll eat it! Nothing can stop me. If it’s sweet, I want it and I will have it!

Forget heroin, crack, crystal-meth. I’m an addict. An addict of sweet chocolaty goodness.

I need help.