My Si-borg friend thought I should broaden my dark chocolate samplings and got me a Starbucks Dark.... She is soooo nice.
I thanked her profusely and got into my car where I snarffed down the Starbucks Dark in a matter of minutes....eating quickly, but trying to savor the taste on my tongue...couldn't get enough...kept going, one bite after another.
When I arrived in my driveway, I checked the mirror, brushed away the crumbs off my chin and tried to hide the evidence. (Trash can outside. ) This is what all closet eaters do....if you haven't figured me out by now, I'm a closet eater.
I loved that dark bar.
Loved it.
I thought about it through out my day, and felt a satisfied glow each and every time.
Hours pass.
I was washing my face in my "white night" outfit-- when I looked at my cleavage area and saw dark spots all over my underwear. I was scared...it looked like ...I don't remember bleeding. On closer inspection, it was melted chocolate droppings.
I looked like a dalmation.
I laughed, as I cleaned myself up, and thought about the Starbuck's Dark again, with a satisfied glow.
I wonder when the Dark chocolate bar ends up on my fat white thighs if I will have the same glow of satisfaction?
Chocolate, the gift that keeps on giving.
Good times.
2 comments:
Hello, my sick of (your non-existent) chub friend--
I just read something interesting: Some researchers did a study, and found that when those who were trying to avoid certain foods imagined those foods as non-food things (like imagining m&ms as buttons instead of chocolate, or chip dip as spackle, etc.) that their cravings for these things reduced significantly. . .I dunno. . .worth a shot. . . .
oh my goodness. You are hilarious. I can picture your face of horror! Keep posting please. Highlight of the day.
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