Aw, Sugar, why'd you do me like that?

Sugar is like a medieval catapult (you know, for humans).

Maybe you're having a little pow-wow to welcome some new coworkers to the office - nothing wall-splitting, just a "how do ya do, have a treat, let's get to know each other" sort of thing.

Inevitably somebody wheels in a tractor-sized people-launcher and you think, "Hey, I've been sticking to my Points Plan like a recently slapjacked military cadet, I deserve a little treat for my efforts." I mean, it's just one launch. You'll get back to the gym in the a.m. and the WW will never be the wiser.

So you climb in, eyes wide with enthusiasm, and throw out the "ready" signal (thumbs up paired with permagrin, of course).

And in an instant you're jetting high speed into the sky, weightless, cheeks rattling in the wind. Up, up, up!

But then your speed begins to wane. The once-upward angle of your flight has started to plateau. It's right about here, as your line of vision sinks from sun, to horizon, to Earth that you realize...this is going to end very, very badly.

A crash ensues. A crash you should have seen coming but you were blinded by flight.

Yea, that's what sugar's like.