The bourbons were being passed round yesterday afternoon. I resisted. The way to do it is to remind yourself that they're just a cheap confection of flour, sugar, fat and cocoa and not a genuine gourmet treat. The satisfaction of a bourbon biscuit is too minor and fleeting to be worth the calorific cost. If you're going to break the rules, at least make sure you're doing it for something that merits it. This is easier said than done, of course, but somehow I managed it.
The real test comes at lunchtime today when, apparently, we're getting a consignment of Domino's pizzas delivered to the office. Fortunately, I don't actually like Domino's pizzas all that much anyway*, but I'll still struggle to convince myself of the truth of that when they actually turn up...
d.
*they tend to be stodgy, laden with cheap meat of dubious identity and provenance, and the sauce they use is far too sweet for my taste; Pizza Express pizzas would be a different matter.