Chocolate and Me

So when I tell people I'm a chocoholic, they laugh.

But it's not all fun and games. Sure that first bite of the day is heavenly, like I just plugged my finger into the outlet of the universe and felt the jolt of life surging into my heart. And I feel human and loved and capable of jumping over Engelmann Oaks with a single bound. But then I have a second bite and a third and that's where it gets tricky.

Then I'm too hurried, too rushed, too impatient and I barrel through my to do list with a vengeance and without enjoyment. Sure I get things done, but not with the sense of wonder that I would otherwise. My writing gets done and a chocolate high is great when I need to be ruthless and edit the fluff out of my writing, but I can't find the story when I'm high on chocolate. I can't listen to the words in the wind and pluck them out of the air.

So I try to just have one piece and that works some days. Some days the loneliness takes over and I fill it with chocolate. Sometimes I'm just too tired to do yet another load of laundry or mop the kitchen floor or make dinner and so I self-medicate ~~ pop a piece of chocolate and I'm off and running.

These days, I'm trying to take it one day at a time. One piece at a time. Trying to skip chocolate as much as I can. Vowing that tomorrow is another day. Another option to brave it out in the mind of the universe. And as for today, I think just one more piece is in order.