I was a late bloomer for my journey into womanhood. I was in college before I started craving foods approximately every 28 days. This crave has only grown in intensity...
Perhaps *crave* isn't the appropriate verb. The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of someone *craving* a certain kind of food I think of the holidays and really really wanting to eat some Nana bread and her pumpkin chiffon pie... where you think it would be nice to eat some again. I hear tell that pregnancy can make you crave food to the next level, where you send your significant other out in the middle of the night to get pickles and Moosetracks ice cream.
But my *crave*? My crave is more like the need of a werewolf on their first full moon. It's all that I can think about. This crave has made veins stick up on the side of my neck and my hair stand on end. And, with all apologies, if you are standing between me and my chocolate, I will knock your block off to obtain that confectionate perfection.
Now imagine this crave in an apartment without any chocolate. It's not a pretty picture. Because of the timed dire necessities for such indulgences, I have a hidden emergency supply. Mostly I'm willing to share, unless it's the last two pieces. For your safety please stay away from my last two pieces of mouth-watering divinity.
Don't think I'm being selfish and mean. The Hater asked me to hide it so that he would not be tempted. Unfortunately, the out-of-sight-out-of-mind philosophy does not curb my jonesing for chocolate. The howling begins when the full moon comes out from behind the clouds and my inner influx of hormones turns me into a ravaging and slightly tearful beast.
Today is a day that I need chocolate. Perhaps you should just keep a few hershey kisses in your pocket in case of emergency... but don't try to hide it from me... the beast is out.
Enjoying: One Painted Hand
10 hours ago