A whole set of sweet teeth

It's understood that working as a reporter may be a dangerous job at times.
From covering conflicts to exposing corruption to reporting on crime, many journalists have died in the line of duty.
But when I landed a job as a multimedia reporter at the Londoner, I thought I had a pretty safe gig. Since starting my new job a few months ago though, I discovered a grave threat to my health: workplace sweets.
Sugary snacks seem to be everywhere I turn at my office. My co-workers at the Sun Media building on Gainsborough Road bring in leftover cookies, extra Halloween candy, random cinnamon buns and all sorts of other confections. We even have a bi-weekly cake day!
Make no mistake, I don't hate these tasty treats – it would be much easier if I did. My problem is I have an insatiable sweet tooth. And it's my teeth I'm worried about. At 26 years old, I've never had a single cavity, but that streak can't continue with the amount of sweets at my workplace. Sometimes I feel like I work at Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.
It doesn't help that I sit just a few feet from most tempting source of all: the office candy jar.
As if it wasn't hard enough to be within eyesight of this candy mecca, but to make maters worse the container is constantly stocked with amazing treats like Swedish Berries, Aero bars and Jolly Ranchers.
It would be much easier to ignore the jar if it was stocked with black licorice or candy corn.
Since starting in September, I've gone through three stages. First, I indulged in the treats, eating as many as I could, sometimes waking up with a sugar hangover the following day. Next, I felt guilty about all the junk I was eating so I tried to eat in moderation, but ended up binging again. Finally, I decided to quit sugar cold turkey, but soon the cookie cravings became too much, and then cake day hit and I relapsed.
My situation reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where Elaine gets fed up with the atmosphere of excess sugar consumption at her office and swears off sweets, only to realize she's hooked on mid-afternoon cake.
When I'm packing my lunch in the morning I'll throw in an orange or an apple thinking it might substitute for my daily candy fix, but when lunchtime rolls around my fruit doesn't look so appealing compared to a chocolate cupcake.
My name is Dale Carruthers and I'm addicted to sweets.
This addiction is especially embarrassing for a man my age. You never hear of rock stars addicted to licorice, and professional athletes hooked on donuts don't make the headlines. There's nothing glamorous about my addiction. I can only imagine my dentist shaking his head when he reads this.
But I guess the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.