I have a problem.

 Numerous confiterias or confectionery stores are scattered in the neighborhood.  Little bite sized cakes, cookies and treats fill in the windows.  I pass them everyday on the way home and it pulls me in.  Something deep in my genes pulls me toward sugar wanting to work my pancreas overtime.  I struggle to resist and try to set limits for myself.  I'll stop at 3 today and only 3 days this week.  Ha.  I am a junkie.  The creme de leche, mini tiramisu, the tiny mint chocolate cakes, cakes topped with fruit, cookies dipped in chocolate, mini croissants with one end dipped in chocolate and tiny cannolis filled with creme de leche, just to name a few call me like sirens.  The busy staff in white coats asked "when are you going to bring in your family?"  They thought I had small children that were eating all the treats I buy.  I hung my head in shame.  My spare tire could easily blimp to that of a semi truck but with great restraint and sprints at the velodrome on the way home the spare tire may only be that of a VW.  The demon sits on my shoulder urging me to stop promising I will show restraint.  The extra cushion on my ass says "keep pedaling or get a sheep skin seat cover".