I will admit that, in general, I am kind of a health nut. It’s mostly because I was raised to think that way, and I’m sure if my mother was reading this (hi, Mom!) she’d laugh at me, but it’s true. Compared to most people, or at least Americans, I’m a very healthy eater. Lots of fruit and veggies, all-natural and organic, as few byproducts and chemicals as possible, use olive oil instead of butter, leaner cuts of meat, rarely eat red meat – the whole shebang. But if there’s one area that I completely fail at eating healthy, it’s desserts.
Partially, it’s quantity. I just have a massive sweet tooth, and it’s hard to say no to a cupcake when the only interesting thing to eat besides that is a yogurt. And, partially, it’s the fact that when I eat dessert, it’s never healthy (for a dessert), like a piece of chocolate and fruit, or a light coffee cake. No. Whatever. I’m eating dessert. I want it to be bad for me. I want it to be terrible for me. That’s why I’m eating dessert. That, and because when food is bad for you, it’s kind of delicious.