I snuck in to the office like I was coming home after curfew. I listened for voices as I climbed the stairs to see if I could figure out where people were and if I was going to encounter anyone at the top.

As I hit the top step I was relieved to see that S. wasn't sitting at her desk. I quickly slunk into my office and plopped the fast-food bag on the floor next to my desk. I hated feeling like I had to hide my lunch, but that's the reality of it.

Winter means deadline season where I work. We have one about every 30 seconds. OK, it's not that many, but seriously we call summer our deadline drought season if that gives you any indication of how busy I am in December. (I don't even have time to blog during the day anymore! Sheesh!) So I find that I run out for quick lunches more often instead of driving the four blocks home for a leisurely, hour-long lunch. Today was one of those days. I had stories piled up and, frankly, wanted to leave at 5--especially with snow predicted.

I don't work with the food police, but I know what they're thinking when they see me with fast food or a piece of candy. Or maybe I just think I know what they're thinking. And I find it strange when I say something about the sugar-free cake someone brought in having more carbs and sugar alcohols than a regular cake that they say things like, "Well, you'd know better than I would."

Isn't that exactly right? I do know better than they do. So why do I find it necessary to hide these things from my coworkers? Maybe it's the comments like, "Michelle, you better stop eating those truffles or you'll go into insulin shock." There are just so many things wrong with that statement that I didn't even begin to address them at that moment. And then there's my "outting" to a stranger by one of my coworkers. Now you know that I don't keep my diabetes a secret, but it should be my information to tell.

I'm not sure, really, why this is coming out today because I have generally been able to let these things roll off. Perhaps these things are finally wearing on me. Perhaps I'm settling in.