ode to chocolate

o chocolate, how do i love thee? let me count the ways...


my developing addiction to chocolate is moving towards new heights. only a few days ago, i opened my purse and in my haste to pull out my wallet, i pulled out a giant-sized giardella chocolate bar.

we're not talking "snickers gets you going sized bar". nope, we're talking six servings sized bar of chocolate and almonds.

before someone stages an intervention to save my thighs whose cellulite is acquiring cellulite, the chocolate was a gift, i swear. i was holding it for a friend who brought it back for me from san francisco. i swear, officer, i was only holding it!

a hem. a goddess girl, actually. and it was my chocolate, alright. all mine.

* * *

seeing as chocolate is the one thing that can tame my savage soul at that time of the month, the one where it feels like i am being pelted in all directions by a thousand tiny grains of sand, irritating me to no end, until i feel as if i am ready to explode.

like how i freaked out on a poor unsuspecting boss, when i picked up the phone on friday. "which part of it?" i barked into the phone to answer her question as to whether i had made any progress on my ever-growing to-do list. it wasn't her fault. all she wanted was an update and i unleash an evil spirit of hades on her.

i didn't realize until i started to talking to her how stressed out i really was. i felt like i could cry. my head pounded. my tail twitched and i felt increasingly agitated. my claws lay extended, ready at a moment's notice. her question was the mouse that crossed my path. swat!

it was only once i got off the phone and realized what i had done did i realize my others symptoms. fatigue, exhaustion really. the pimple the size of mount helens erupting on my face. the mood swings that make sybill look even-keeled. yup, i was deep into the throes of the three scariest letters in the alphabet -- p. m. s.

or so mam tells me. and past co-workers who would track my cycle on the calendar in order to ascertain my normal bitchy from my psycho-insane-i-kill-you-bitchy. flug, you remember, you kept the calendar updated.

so which is why my emergency bar of chocolate, heaven sent by one of the goddess girls came to such a sweet end on friday when i tore into it the way a crocodile wraps its prey in its jaws, performing death rolls with my mouth as i swallow it last creamy goodness.

what? get your own damn chocolate bar.