I have no idea what this post should be about. I’ve allowed myself to accumulate several draft posts when I think I have an idea for a post. Problem is, several of them only have a title and no notes or early beginnings.
So… chocolate. What the fuck was I thinking?
My initial guess is that this is supposed to be about the feeling. The sensation you get after eating a piece of chocolate. And since I took the wife out for hot cocoa today, I suppose I can attempt to channel the Self that wrote this fascinating and yet somehow banal title some four months ago.
I’m not a chocolate junky. Don’t get me wrong, I eat it. Put it in my drawer at work and it will be eaten. But I rarely seek it out as a solution to daytime woes, as I imagine, many hypothetical people do.
The word may have first been used by the Aztecs in —
Oh who the fuck am I kidding. I’m not going to write a historical piece on chocolate. This needs to somehow be about the creative process or anxiety or lolcats…
This winter has been a plague infested GERM BOMB of sleepless nights, coughs, achiness, and existential dread. We have watched in horror as cold after cold after cold has struck our household. No amount of bleach will murder these fuckers, only the icy, cruel, undeniable bitch that is time herself. Round after round we have gone toe to toe and gone tits up.
I’ve taken to Echinacea. FUCKING ECHINACEA. Vitamin D. Vitamin C. Vitamin Fuck All. I drink warm liquids. I take honey by the spoonful. I did yoga once.
Today I am holding out hope. The wife has spent three sleepless nights wheezing by my side. The Toddler is waking up at 2am requesting “water for my cough” along with the telling of 10,000 stories about his alter-ego, Nasher, the boy who apparently gets milk for his mother from the market nineteen times a day. And the baby (who is suspiciously aging to the point where I may no longer be able to call him that) wakes every two hours wanting his blanket. Or wanting me to take OFF his blanket. Or move the blanket over? Or, maybe the blanket needs to be tucked? No? I’ll just sneak out and hope your mother doesn’t hear you screaming, if that’s ok…
So far (knocking on ALL THE WOOD) I don’t see any signs of a virus on my person (other than a scratchy throat, wait — don’t think about it…stop thinking about it) and I am hopeful, quite hopeful… VERY hopeful that I will escape this time.
Anyway, does chocolate keep you awake? Does it make you delirious with happiness? Does it fulfill that ache inside you? Does it help when the void threatens to swallow you whole? Do you pretend that dark chocolate is really good for you and that it will help smooth your wrinkles and prevent cancer and get you that new promotion?
Please tell me, ye, virtual beings of the web, that chocolate prevents a cold. Please tell me that. It doesn’t even have to be true.