In theory it sounded awesome.

In fourth grade I learned the best way to remember how to distinguish between the words "desert" and "dessert." "The word dessert has two s's," Mrs. Hovdet told us. "You'll remember that because when it comes to dessert, you always want more than one."

That made me laugh because, well, Mrs. Hovdet was a beast of a woman, of course she'd want more than one dessert. But I've always remembered how to spell the word.

And while, in theory, more than one dessert sounds like magic, it's really not.

We're having a potluck at work today. A dessert potluck, two s's. We each brought in a dessert to share. I, of course, have my chocolate-covered pretzel rods, and I'm pretty sure I've spied Rice Krispies Treats, cheesecake, apple pie, heart attacks and high blood pressure on the table.

I've sort of been looking forward to this all week. Dessert. Yum. And then I got here this morning, ate a pretzel and a Rice Krispies Treat, and want to throw up.

And the thought of eating one more pretzel rod or a piece of apple pie sort of makes me start to sweat. And my stomach gets all twisty. I can't do it.

I prefer desert, thank you.