I’m sitting here in my comfy chair with gobs of drool slopping down my chin soaking into my shirt. Earlier I baked a pan of brownies for Devoted Spouse to take to a meeting he has at church and the smell of the brownies is making me absolutely woozy with chocolate desire.
You see…I’m dieting. Yes, I am — I have managed to peel off 15 lbs since the 2nd of March and I’m not about to stop now. But having a pan of the most delectable-smelling brownies on the face of the earth just one room away from me, with the aroma wafting over me is like, well, it’s like offering a glass of fresh water to a parched soul….and that glass is just out of reach. Ack ack.
I believe the appropriate word here is Agony. I am in agony because I want a brownie. It’s not like I can’t work one lousy brownie into my diet plan but I have this issue with sweets. Once I start I don’t stop. It’s rather like being a drug addict or an alcoholic — I’m a sweetaholic. I have found the best solution is to simply not take even one little bite or it will lead me down the path of sitting in the corner of the clothes closet hiding under a pile of old jeans stuffing my cheeks full of chocolate chip cookies. Not a pretty sight I assure you.
Therefore I sit here and post this because it helps to write about it – if I admit it in print I am holding myself accountable and I will not fail. I will not walk into that kitchen and throw my face into that pan no matter what. I even immediately washed the bowl and the wooden spoon so as not to lick the batter. Super Dieter. Let me adjust my cape. There…that’s better.
The picture above is called a Killer Brownie and it’s sold locally by a grocery chain known as Dorothy Lane Market and they are without a doubt the most decadent brownies in the world. And, no, I have not walked into that store in years because of the temptation to simply lick the bakery countertop in hopes of catching a stray crumb or three.
No. Walk away from the brownies…Wait…is that a drop of choc batter on my shirt… lick…I’m okay now….sigh.