The above photo, that sweet, delicious-looking, tray of baked goodness, is not a stock photo. I took it this morning in the office break room.

It’s taunting me.

I used to be the only one in the office who brought treats. And, time after time, there would be more than enough leftover. We’re talking the good stuff — monkey bread, cinnamon buns, Donut Conspiracy dozens, fresh apple and cherry turnovers. Premium weight in search of the perfect sugar rush.

Up until a few months ago when I stopped because others picked up the slack.

But nooooo, I wanted to look and feel better like an idiot. I could be scarfing down the glazed one in the middle left that has doughnut pieces decorating itself. It’s like the Mola Ram of confections, adorning itself with lesser subjects of the same race. Taunting the other doughnuts.

Yes, that’s a Temple of Doom reference. The Kali Ma, heart removal guy.

I really want to eat it.

Not a human heart.

The supremacist doughnut.

I’m just not starving for it. Which is the big key to this whole thing. Balancing wants and needs. A real difficulty for an advertiser like myself, whose self-reliance depends on the ability to blend those two competing ideas into an incoherent mishmash of consumerism.

I had pie last night.

Apple pie.

I also had pecan pie a couple days ago.

And the night before that.

Not after 10 p.m., mind you. Just making it within my own detox description rules.

I’ve also been looking at numerous intermittent fasting videos.

Numerous is an understatement. Upwards up 30 different videos, I’d say. Ballpark.

It dawned on me that my weekend eating and sleeping habits already led to IF patterns. If I skip a breakfast, I’m pretty well on my way. The only difference was my constant late-night snack at 2, 3, and 4 a.m. after working downtown.

So, while it’s not necessarily part of my December regimen, I’ll be adding some IF practices, chief among them is keeping to an IF schedule for the weekends only, and eating breakfast Monday through Thursday of the normal work week.

Nothing to eat until 1 p.m. on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, which coincidentally is usually my normal wakeup times for Saturday and Sunday.

Shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

Right?

RIGHT?

I really want to eat that GD doughnut.

The Kali Ma doughnut.

Because then it’d make me Indiana Jones.

Well, it would make me the crocodiles underneath Indiana Jones.

And look at that. It’s almost lunch time.

I guess I’ll just write the hunger away.