I have always had a penchant for sweets. Happily, merrily so. Nothing has really ever changed that except for pregnancy and being around miserable people. The latter just takes the fun, life and sugar out of things. I feel rather sorry for miserable people who chose to lead such a life. Well, actually no. I do not feel sorry for them. I’m rather hardened these days. Instead of gummies, I’m more like peanut brittle. Well, actually no. I still enjoy life, laughing, and lighting up a conversation. I can’t wallow in quicksand. Nor do I wallow in the wallow of others. I still like sugar with a rim of salt. A basil lime daiquiri fits that bill very well. Now that my ten-day cleanse is done, I get to enjoy my mai-tais again. That brings me great joy.

Now here is something that gets me. I cannot stand when I order something that is ostensibly sweet that turns out to not be sweet at all. That has happened to me the last few weeks.

I love bread pudding and ordered some for dessert recently. When I dug my spoon in, it turned out to be just there. It was not sweet. It was not salty. Not that it conceivably should be. It was just there. How disappointing. Then I ordered a daiquiri. It was a specially made one just for me. How exciting. Well, actually no. It was nowhere near sweet. Nor was it sour. It was bland with a zest of bitter. What a way to yuck my yum.

I still drank that drink. I actually ordered a second one. Why not? But as I drank it I thought about the many people that were just like thay bread pudding and daiquiri. They were supposedly sweet but all a facade. A bitter, salty, bland facade. And how pitiful. I need not swallow that bitter pill. And I won’t.