I have a confession to make. Confiteor Deo omnipotenti…(that’s about all I recall from my time as an altar boy,)

I’m not proud of it, but I am certain I will never give it up.

Not one day at a time.

Not by the intercession by a forgiving and loving God.

Not through any well-meant intervention.

I will march into hell upon my death if need be, because I will never give up this addiction.

Yet I am compelled to confess to the world.

I have eaten, secretly and repeatedly, raw cookie dough.

Not the fake stuff in ice cream. Real—made from scratch (did you not know I am also a closet cookie baker?) flour, sugar, and raw eggs—cookie dough that is nirvana on the taste buds.

Judge me if you will. Scorn me, belittle me, hold me in contempt, Warn me, caution me, tell me all the risks it entails. I don’t care.

Because I will never stop enjoying the pure ecstasy of raw dough despite everything.

I would rather die for what I love than live on things that are healthy. For life is to be enjoyed not prolonged by abstinence of things we desire.