Emergency supplies

I really do have grand intentions for my weekends. Most of them require barricading myself inside to accomplish heroic feats like resolving a disgusting amount of laundry or organizing bills run amok. And then the weekend arrives. And mostly, I don't get them done. I start about 5:00 on Sunday evening because I've spent the rest of my weekend doing things I actually want to do.

Saturday I had to take Darcy to the vet for her routine test which threw off my plans. A trip to the vet means a walk in the park follows. No matter what. Freezing temperatures...we walk. Spitting rain...we walk. Both at the same time...we walk. The car hop at Sonic was right when when she said Darcy's spoiled. I don't care. So am I.

Anyway, after all that, I was going to write. I got out my laptop, curled myself up in a warm place, and started. And I worked. For a while. Then I needed a break, a little something...sweet to go with a Diet Coke. And there was nothing in the kitchen! I went through every square inch looking for something that could be opened or baked or scooped or poured or...something and couldn't find a thing. So I did what had to be done.

I stood very still in the middle of my living room and thought and listened...until I heard the rustle of the emergency chocolate. What a happy discovery! The room to be avoided because it holds all things bill-like and tax-preparation-like also holds one single bag, the spoils of the company Christmas party, which, in addition to the Cat in the Hat movie still in the original package, held a ginormous Hershey bar. And everything was good again! I wrote a little bit more but mostly I snarfed chocolate.

Note to self: must replace emergency chocolate soon. And also buy cookies or cookie dough or ice cream or...the diet is going so well!