How do you do a before-script? Like P.S. only at the beginning? Anyway, that's what this is. Check out Damm's story below-it was good enough to distract me from the book I am currently reading (and that's hard to do).
So, the lack of chocolate.
It's all my mum's fault.
When we brought the Orclette home, I discovered a box of biscotti by my bedside. I wasn't that hungry, thought I'd never get through an entire box, but I was wrong. Middle of the night feedings had me STARVING and so I'd munch on one, stomach would be contentified, and then I'd zonk out again. Wake up in the morning for my coffee and hey, wouldn't a biscotti go nicely with that? Eventually biscotti morphed into chocolate and here we are. I must have chocolate with my coffee.
There was a brief hiatus. Morning sickness made the drinking of coffee and the eating of chocolate impossible. It was a very sad period of my life. I wouldn't simply call it being addicted, although it was that. It was more that part of my morning was gone; like the English and their tea. If you've ever read Amelia Peabody (mystery series) you'll know that she considered the ritual of tea to be fortifying to the mental state as well as calming to the physical state. I feel the same way about my coffee & chocolate ritual.
So this week I bought chocolate. And it was wonderful. I'm still drinking fake coffee (flavored stuff that says it has caffeine but I'm convinced has absolutely NO caffeine) but I'm now pairing it with chocolate. Happy, happy days (incidentally when gum'ma fixes the Orclette's hair, an impulse which I don't understand because her hair's cute, the Orclette looks like the Fonz). Until yesterday, when I woke up and there was no chocolate.
WWIII. HYPERVENTILATING. RAGE AT WORLD. RAGE AT WALMART BECAUSE IT'S SO FAR AWAY. cry and whimper.
I morphed into The Bear. Bigger than the Big Bear Butt bear. It is fortunate for my hubby and child that they were not awake to see this transformation. But life does go on, and I continued on bravely. Got to the part in my morning where I can FINALLY eat food (you can't tell that I love food can you?) and guess what I discover hidden? One. Last. Serving. Of. Chocolate.
I renounced the Bear title. It's yours again 3B. I halted WWIII. I decided I was not, in fact, mad at the world but loved it. Walmart was precious to me because that's where I buy my chocolate (don't tell my grandmother that, she'd be mortified I just admitted that, being from Belgium where real chocolate is made).
And, in fact, ya'll just read the first draft of the first part of my autobiography. I think I'll split mine up into sections like "On Chocolate," "On the Orclette," etc. Teacher said that he doesn't care how it's formatted, how long it is, as long as we try and find our true voice and re-explore our relationship with words. True Voice? What is my true voice? And then I thought, my blog! I write like I think! At least what I'm thinking at that very moment. I think it was a brilliant idea, esp. since I have tons of stuff I could include (edited and revised because I don't think my classmates will understand 3B, Shrinn, or Orclette references).
Have a good day everyone.
So, the lack of chocolate.
It's all my mum's fault.
When we brought the Orclette home, I discovered a box of biscotti by my bedside. I wasn't that hungry, thought I'd never get through an entire box, but I was wrong. Middle of the night feedings had me STARVING and so I'd munch on one, stomach would be contentified, and then I'd zonk out again. Wake up in the morning for my coffee and hey, wouldn't a biscotti go nicely with that? Eventually biscotti morphed into chocolate and here we are. I must have chocolate with my coffee.
There was a brief hiatus. Morning sickness made the drinking of coffee and the eating of chocolate impossible. It was a very sad period of my life. I wouldn't simply call it being addicted, although it was that. It was more that part of my morning was gone; like the English and their tea. If you've ever read Amelia Peabody (mystery series) you'll know that she considered the ritual of tea to be fortifying to the mental state as well as calming to the physical state. I feel the same way about my coffee & chocolate ritual.
So this week I bought chocolate. And it was wonderful. I'm still drinking fake coffee (flavored stuff that says it has caffeine but I'm convinced has absolutely NO caffeine) but I'm now pairing it with chocolate. Happy, happy days (incidentally when gum'ma fixes the Orclette's hair, an impulse which I don't understand because her hair's cute, the Orclette looks like the Fonz). Until yesterday, when I woke up and there was no chocolate.
WWIII. HYPERVENTILATING. RAGE AT WORLD. RAGE AT WALMART BECAUSE IT'S SO FAR AWAY. cry and whimper.
I morphed into The Bear. Bigger than the Big Bear Butt bear. It is fortunate for my hubby and child that they were not awake to see this transformation. But life does go on, and I continued on bravely. Got to the part in my morning where I can FINALLY eat food (you can't tell that I love food can you?) and guess what I discover hidden? One. Last. Serving. Of. Chocolate.
I renounced the Bear title. It's yours again 3B. I halted WWIII. I decided I was not, in fact, mad at the world but loved it. Walmart was precious to me because that's where I buy my chocolate (don't tell my grandmother that, she'd be mortified I just admitted that, being from Belgium where real chocolate is made).
And, in fact, ya'll just read the first draft of the first part of my autobiography. I think I'll split mine up into sections like "On Chocolate," "On the Orclette," etc. Teacher said that he doesn't care how it's formatted, how long it is, as long as we try and find our true voice and re-explore our relationship with words. True Voice? What is my true voice? And then I thought, my blog! I write like I think! At least what I'm thinking at that very moment. I think it was a brilliant idea, esp. since I have tons of stuff I could include (edited and revised because I don't think my classmates will understand 3B, Shrinn, or Orclette references).
Have a good day everyone.
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