Chocolate Stalker

So let's recap the rundown of my favorite inanimate things in life.

1. chocolate
2. hot showers
3. pizza

Also, anything made with chocolate.  Namely, chocolate chip cookies, cake, brownies, and... aww, hell, let's just say anything made with sugar fits the bill just fine.

The problem with chocolate is that it doesn't quite fit in my diet.  (Ya, I know, real surprise).  And for some reason this past weekend I was having big-time chocolate withdrawl.  So what did I do?

Stalked that chocolate like TMZ on Angelina Jolie.

I went to all its favorite haunts:  The grocery store, the pharmacy, the other grocery store, the discount mega-store.  I crept up the aisle, looking furtively around because I felt like everyone would know I was cheating on my diet and they would call me out in the middle of the supermarket and I would have to leave all ashamed-like.  No one called me out.  I'd pick up a bar of chocolate, turn it over to read the nutritional information.  *sigh*  I'd put it back on the shelf.  I'd walk a little further .  I'd pick up another bar of chocolate and turn it over.  I'd sigh and put it back on the shelf.  I'd pick up a few more bars, put them down, then wander back to the first one.  Pick it up and read the nutritional information again, as if it had somehow magically changed in the last five minutes.  It had not.  *sigh*  Finally, unable to convince myself that I wanted any particular piece of chocolate bad enough, I would leave the store empty-handed.

I DID THIS EXACT ROUTINE IN FOUR SEPARATE STORES.


After I left the third store, I began to realize I might have a problem.  I was one set of binoculars and a telephoto lens camera away from leaving it 15 voicemails of nothing but heavy breathing.  Like a stalker.  A stalker of chocolates.