Fellas, you may want to use this Internet time to check the scores of the game or the weather forecast or brush up on your Italian...or just check those scores.
The following is a topic for the ladies.
Why alienate my (three) readers, you ask?
Because there are just some things that need to be said. Er, typed.
And there are just some things with which only a select group, say those who have ovaries, can empathize.
There we go. I think that just knocked off the last of the lingering gentlemen.
Gentlemen...hehe. There was a lady I worked with who would ask me about my "gentleman friend." Cute old people.
But I digress.
Hey ladies, preferably those who have a scientific knowledge of the human anatomy and hormones and chemical stuff, why is it I thought I was going to die if I didn't eat that package of peanut M&M's, all the while knowing I would die from the pain of eating said M&M's?
I went back and forth for awhile: do I eat them and curl up in the fetal position and moan for an hour swearing to scoop out my insides with a rusty spoon? or do I skip them and think of nothing but chocolate covered peanuts in a hard candy shell for the rest of the day?
Obviously, I chose the former, regretting my decision instantly. The only comfort came in knowing I would have been equally miserable in choosing to forsake the treat.
So back to my question, why?? Why does this chocolate have such a hold on us?!
(I say "us" loosely because I know there are a few of you out there who are able to turn your noses up at a Godiva truffle like it's a chocolate covered doodie, however, to you I say "pity, pity.")
It's a love/hate relationship.
Today I hate it.
But I still ate two chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.