It’s a new strategy, and I’m hoping it works out for me.

None of the others did, so I’m not sure what makes me think this one will. But I’m willing to give anything a try.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who dreads the arrival of Halloween, not because of the struggle to select an appropriate costume, but because of the gluttony brought on by the omnipresent bags of candy.

Every store has them on display. And they’re so darn affordable.

Being a little bit cheap, I can find a way to avoid buying them.

But I wish other people would, too.

Here at work there are two candy bins stocked to the heavens every day. One sits next to Paula, our wonderful receptionist and my lunch partner. When I walk back to my desk, a trip that takes me past hers, my hand inevitably finds its way into the candy pile on her desk.

I rationalize it by saying it’s dessert. But how many people eat a handful of malted milk balls or Milk Duds for dessert?

Not the ones with willpower, I can tell you that.

The other candy dish — which actually rests in a hole on top of a skeleton’s head — is managed by sportswriter Theresa Neuhoff Audia.

Theresa is every bit as diligent as Paula, keeping it stocked to levels visible throughout the newsroom. Luckily, this one is way on the other side of the room from where I normally walk, so I haven’t hit it that often.

The way it works out is that day shift frequents Paula’s stash, while the night crew is the clientele for Theresa.

I’ve been able to maintin my willpower once I leave work, though, resisting the call of the colorful packages of chocolate treats in Giant Eagle, Walmart, Super Kmart and other stores where they’re stacked to the ceiling.

And, because Halloween falls on a Monday this year, I have a built-in excuse not to buy any.

I’ll be at the gym for my normal, end-of-shift workout on Monday night when trick-or-treat is going on.

So, not only won’t I be doing the
traditional “one for you, one for me” dip into the bowl, I’ll also be trying
to sweat off what I grabbed from
Paula’s bowl on my way back to my desk.

If you’re looking for an excuse, like I am, it feels like a good one.

It sounds good too.

“No, I’m not going to be touching any candy. I’m going to be sweating at the gym.”

You can borrow it if you want. I’ll back you up.

The only thing I ask for in return is a couple of little boxes of Milk Duds. Because then I can leave Paula’s alone.

LKessel@News-Herald.com

Twitter: @Lauranh