Most of my coworkers are mothers or fathers. And then there’s me. They love to mother me and father me. I wonder if I come off as helpless or some damsel in distress? Or maybe they are just being mothers or fathers?
For our Christmas Eve potluck, I brought store bought cookies (red velvet and chocolate chip). To my defense, the team texted the group at 1900 about the potluck, while I was still working. My assistant who was also in the group text, sent me a separate text, asking me if I wanted her to pick up something for the potluck since she went to Stater Brothers after getting the late notice. I asked her to please pick out the best looking portable desserts and I would Venmo her.
At the potluck, one of the supervisors made BBQ meatballs in the slow cooker. I casually mentioned that it tasted good to another coworker and the next thing I knew, they were packing me up a whole container full of the meatballs. How am I going to eat all these meatballs?
My assistant made homemade Furikake Chex Mix. I talked about how much I enjoyed eating it and then a baggy full of the Chex Mix was handed to me. A colleague made Mexican Wedding cookies and brought me a small plate of them. She told me to try it, which I did. I told her that they were delicious and it melted in my mouth. The next day, she dropped off a ziplock of those cookies, which by the way go excellent with coffee. Another coworker felt sorry that we were working on Christmas and brought a platter of food from Lucille’s Smokehouse BBQ.
And this is why I’m going to have one hell of a time getting down to 115 pounds. I must resist. They are sabotaging my goals. Haha! God help me. It’s a blessing and a curse?
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