There is a can of chocolate frosting leftover from Monkey Man's birthday bash this weekend that is sitting in my refrigerator. It has been sitting there since Friday night. And I have not touched that can. Now, in my saner, sugar-eating days, I would have slaughtered that frosting with my mighty spoon and made up for it the next day at kickboxing. But instead, each time I open the fridge, I give it a quick once-over, a cocky "whatever," letting it know it has no power over me and can sit there until April 24 (when I will eat chocolate until I am comatose. If my grave reads "Death By Chocolate" then I have led a rich and full life).
And then there are the Girl Scout Cookie Thin Mints in my freezer. I have been known to inhale a box of these puppies in one sitting, my belly aching afterwards and wondering why these evil little girls must raise money for their organization in the form of freakin' chocolate mint cookies. They are all so innocent in their, "Won't you buy a box to help us girls contribute to society, participate in wholesome activities, and ensure that we don't procreate at the age of 14 because we didn't get an abstinence badge?" Okay, that part I have no idea about, but you get the idea. You HAVE TO buy the cookies.
But they are sitting in my fridge, heckling me each time I reach for my veggie burger or frozen mango.
If only the frosting and Thin Mints knew how I could totally dip one into the other and show them who's really boss. They seriously have no idea of the chocoholic they are messing with. But my chocolate badass-ness will have to wait another 5 weeks.