I'm really finding it difficult to find things to blog about - not that I'm not having fun and living life. I actually am. I just don't know how to put into hilarious words the situations I get myself into. So until I do, the posts will largely resemble the following one about cheese.
Everyone has their kryptonite when it comes to food. Chips, chocolate, alcohol - anything besides boiled chicken breasts and broccoli, I'm assuming. At least that's how it feels for me. But I can usually control myself with the savoury snacks and alcohol, and having them around doesn't cause me to fall into a crazed, maniacal binge. Chocolate I cannot, but I still keep it in the house because resistance is futile. I know this.
What I didn't realize was such a problem for me was cheese. I cannot control my intake. It's there, and I will eat it. I will melt it, shred it, put it on the chocolate, for Christ's sake. Hell, I'll even eat it straight off the (family sized) block (not my smartest purchase, in hindsight), like a God damned cave person (if cave people had cheese...basically I'm painting the picture of a carnivorous caveman eating a drumstick, but with cheese. You get it). It's gotten to the point where I'm now eating it in great quantities so that I can no longer have it in my possession and I can go back to (relative) normalcy. Because I'm not throwing it out. That shit is expensive.
Oh cheese. You sneaky block of hard milk, you.
Love,
M
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