There are cookies, they say. Cookies next to the printer. The printer just over my shoulder.
They email the announcement. And people say, “Awesome!” and wander by. Wander by and grab a cookie. Peanut butter. Chocolate chip. M&M. Cookies, I tell you, sitting on that plate next to the printer right over there.
Oh, if I can only hold out a bit longer. Resist the voice that’s telling me, “You’ve been so good.” If I can just wait for a few more wanderers come by and reduce those carb-laden, caloric temptations down to nothing but crumbs.
I’m waiting.