Part of this blog was to advocate that donuts, as unhealthily delicious and deep fried as they might be, could also be enjoyed in moderation and as a reward for exercise. Unfortunately, to date, only one of my blog posts has involved exercise and if you are a regular reader to this blog, or know me personally, I hardly and rarely eat donuts in moderation. However, as unbelievable as this might sound, my donut consumption since starting this blog has significantly decreased. This is due to a few factors. Firstly, I’m more picky about where I eat my donuts knowing the wonderful fried potential South Australia has to offer. Secondly, now, when I eat a donut I can’t help but stop and rate it in my mind which takes away from the mindless mass consumption. And thirdly, which is really related to the second point, I feel guilty when eating a donut that I’m not rating it and the purpose of donut eating has moved away from a sugar rush towards a deadline to write a post.
Saying all this today’s donut was as a direct result of my requirements for a sugar rush. I had had a job interview for a job I so dearly wanted. I was feeling positive and confident until I sat down for the first stage of the interview, a written exam. The questions weren’t particularly hard, but in exam conditions and with nerves I became increasingly less confident in what I wrote. The timer went before I had finished and so leaving a half-empty paper I shuffled down the stairs for the next part, the interview panels. I sit down and in front of me are two respected seniors, they start with the first questions and I’m shaking like a little leaf. I notice a glass of water in front of me, wonderful! A moment of rest to consider my answer, a chance to wet my parched lips and thick tongue! Mmmm how nice, cool, refreshing and moist water is.
Note to self when drinking water don’t forget to swallow, especially before you start to speak.
My mouth opened, my lips and tongues forming the answers to the first question and out came that big gulp of water I had forgotten to swallow. Some sprayed, the majority dribbled – no I wouldn’t even call it dribbling – the majority poured down my chin and into a little puddle in my crotch. The respected seniors stared at me silently, wondering how I managed to get even this far in my career if I had yet to learn to swallow. The puddle in my lap seeped and spread so that when I stood up to go before the next interview panel it appeared as though I had had an accident of the urinary kind.
Following this, I was in need of sugar. And at 9:30 in the morning there are a few acceptable forms of sugar one can consume, primarily and my personal favourite being donuts. We had heard that the IGA on North Terrace, across from the old RAH, did the biggest donuts going and for only $3.50. Grabbing the donuts, an iced coffee to share I relived my tale of woe to my husband as we walked to the botanic gardens. Once there the donut was consumed eagerly, in the presence of two mating birds, and in the cool brightness of a winters sun.
