Somebody Hates Me

How do I know? Well, someone brought my kryptonite to the office and left it sitting in a communal dish, to share with our fellow coworkers.

Candy Corn.

My goodness, how I love candy corn. I can resist it in the store. I can walk by its lovely tri-color triangle shape and while my mouth does salivate, I do not pick up the package. But if someone else buys it, and opens the package, and the candy corn is there, open to air and ready to be eaten, well, I won't be able to resist.

If I break, and a I will because it is freaking candy corn, one piece is not enough. Handfuls are not enough. The entire bowl is not enough.

I am a Candy Corn maniac.

It's the first taste of fall, it's the start of October, it's the promise of Halloween.

And it's waiting in the office break room, just waiting for me to get a quarter cup of coffee and think, "You know what? One piece would go smashing with this coffee!" and the next thing I know, I've shoved a handful in my mouth and taken a handful back to my desk. Shameful, really, my lack of character when it comes to candy corn.

Somebody hates me, and showed it by bringing something I can't refuse. And guess what? The feelings mutual. I hate the person who brought my can't resist candy weakness!