Me want candy.

My office is an evil, evil place.

You see, each night about 25 college students come to work here in the basement. And what’s the only way to get college students to show up? Well, bribe them, of course. And since promoting keg-stands to student employees is somewhat of a no-no, we use pop and candy.

So this means that I am forced to work within one flight of stairs of unlimited pop and candy. I’m talking everything from Coca-Cola to Pepsi Jazz, Reese’s Cups to Laffy Taffy. It’s just not right. At times, the temptation overwhelms me.

This afternoon was one such occasion.

It was 4:50, almost time to leave, and I was SO hungry. I couldn’t help it; I ran downstairs and stuffed three Starbursts into my mouth. My sugar craving fulfilled, I headed back up the steps.

That’s when I came face-to-face with a student worker. She looked so cute in her pea coat and headband, and there I was hauling my pregnant arse upstairs, teeth glued together with sugar. I smiled at her as politely as I could, and she asked me if our graduate assistant was in her office. My mouth was still stuffed with the three said Starbursts and the best I could do was mumble “I habn’t seen ‘er toway” and continue waddling back to my cubicle.

The most embarrassing part? She surely knew what I was up to, being well aware of the abundant supply of calories to be found in the basement. I can practically hear her telling her anorexic sorority sisters the story of the huge pregnant lady with a mouth full of candy.

And then, not having found the person she was looking for, she came to my cubicle. “Um, excuse me, ma’am?”

Ma’am? Kick me while I’m down.