The definition of failure can be pretty flexible and loose, but it's safe to say week three was a failure on the sugar front. I started out well, but as finals hit hard and fast my roommates and I turned to our usual habits... sweets.
On Tuesday one of my roommates finished with her finals and to celebrate she decided to make my other roommate and I some cinnamon rolls. Since we were wallowing in our insane amounts of work, we both quickly devoured the cinnamon rolls out of self pity (and man did they taste amazing hot out of the oven). In one sitting I doubled my sugar intake.
The next night it was my turn to celebrate being done. It's a tradition in my apartment that when you finish something huge or get good news, we celebrate with food. We made some cookies to mark the completion of my second (and final) senior project/thesis, which really would have been fine if I hadn't eaten six of them (in my defense they were small cookies). The next morning I had a waffle (thanks to Parks and Recreation I had a massive waffle craving for the past month or so and I finally got to give in to it), but I didn't use the fake syrup and instead just had whipped cream and strawberries.
The week just kept falling apart from there. I would do great all day with my sugar intake, and then I would blow it out of the water at dessert. But by the end of the week (this weekend) I got myself back on track.
Honestly, I'm glad to have failed this week. I'm not going to be one of those people who refuses a homemade dessert because "I don't eat sugar." I believe that food should bring you joy as well as feed the body. Did my desserts harm me? No. Would I eat them again, of course (although I wouldn't let myself eat so many cookies). I'm not saying I'm going to overdo it on dessert every day and be ok with it, but every once in a while I think it's a good thing.