It's a Friday morning. The amicably sized staff room is littered with binders, highlighters and there is a tinge of fatigue in the air. Some kind soul has left a Soreen Cake and a Jamaican Ginger Cake next to the coffee and sugar, with a knife and sign that reads:
" A few days in. Resolutions already broken. Eat away colleagues".
Woman 1: I so want to eat some, but I'll absolutely, KILL myself afterwards.
Woman 2: Don't eat it!
Woman 1: (eyes wide with delight, smiling at the possible goodness that is embedded in a slice of Jamaican Ginger Cake).
Woman 2: Don't do it! One slice and it's a slippery slope downhill after that. I have a slight addiction...
Woman 1: (riddled with bewilderment) Addiction?
Woman 2: Yeah, I love cake. Simple. I remember craving a slice of some cake or another and before I knew it, I had had one slice, two slice, then all that remained was the packaging and a slight feeling of shame.
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