A letter to my work colleague who left a few slices of chocolate cake in the fridge…

Dear Colleague,

As I went to the fridge to retrieve my can of diet coke this afternoon at 4:30pm in order for my mid-afternoon snack of artificial sweetners and caffeine, I could not help but notice the two large chunks of sumptuous looking, moist chocolate cake with its sweet chocolate-brown icing.  There was nothing artificial about this cake…. it was proudly and boldly pure fat and sugar. There it was, sitting delicately on a plate, covered in glad-wrap, seductively whispering my name and telling me of its joyful flavours. My mouth-watered instantly at its sight.

Fortunately for you, dear colleague, I am currently on a health-kick and therefore, your pieces of cake are still in tact. I constrained myself from slicing a slither as I usually do, whereby you wouldn’t have even known I had indulged in its sweetness. I did this you see, as I am on a four-week challenge, whereby I hope that when I run on the treadmill, my thighs will stop making the sound of somebody clapping me on.

I would like to personally know which work colleague was so kind to leave these slices of cake in the fridge covered in its see-through wrap, silently mocking all of those on a summer-get-fit scheme. Have you no mercy, dear colleague? No forethought for us poor souls, obviously not as fortunate as yourself, who must watch what they eat? I would like to enact some type of revenge on you and if I knew who you were, I would be able to execute my most perfectly evil plan. What is your weakness dear colleague? May I tempt you like you did me?

For God’s sake, couldn’t you have at least covered the surely delicious slices with alfoil? At least then, I wouldn’t be tempted to even lift the cover and take a long, painful, yet wonderfully amazing aroma of the contents underneath. For that is what I did, dear colleague, I carefully lifted up the glad-wrap on one side of the plate and inhaled the slices of cake with my nose. I stood in the kitchen, mouth-watering and the smell of chocolate wafting into my nostrils willing myself not to give in.

But then, I had a thought dear colleague. No, I didn’t lick the cake as I so desperately wanted to. Nor did I spit on it for revenge. It was simple. I would place the said cake slices in the bin. This would be the best revenge. You see, if I can’t divulge in the most chocolatey of chocolate cakes, neither can you. But would you? Would you be tempted like me, to retrieve the slices from the bin? It’s tempting isn’t it?

Yours sincerely, one pre-menstrual, middle-aged woman on a diet!