This was originally posted Feb 19, 2013. Enjoy.
I was upset and so you try everything you can to distract yourself. I was thinking of drowning my sorrows in a cocktail or maybe two or three and then I remembered the chocolate cake in my fridge from last nights dinner. I reached for the door to discover the chocolate cake staring back at me. It somehow is elevating itself off the plate and a bright halo is forming around the top and shining in my eye. Who couldn’t resist this shiny object. I know my daughter is known to have the shiny syndrome but me? It must have been hereditary because I can’t seem to take my eyes off of it. If I could float toward the light, I probably would but with my grand stature and gravity, I was firmly planted to the ground. My hand was not. It very unconsciously reached forward and latched onto the plate. Before I knew what happened it was floating toward my nose. I could smell the dark rich chocolate and imagined the moist taste. I knew that taking a bite would ease my torments at least for a short while and at this point, that was all I was looking for. I was not thinking of the unholy exercise I would have to subject myself to the next day to burn off those calories. I was just thinking of the sensation of burying my horrid feelings at this moment. I held the plate in one hand and picked up a piece with the other. The gooey moistness of the dense cake melted in my mouth as I slowly chewed the piece of heaven. We had decorated it with pure chocolate on top that had hardened into a deep dark chocolate layer sprinkled with walnuts. The crispy texture was enough for me to want another bite and another. Of course what better way to wash it all down then with a glass of milk. I don’t think the skim label made me feel much better about my ordeal but at least it wasn’t whole milk. I washed it down and then wrapped the remaining cake up to return it to its resting place. The halo had disappeared and somehow the plate had gotten quite heavy in my hand. My full belly was satiated but my heart was not. Too late for regrets. The deed had been done buried in the contents of my stomach, only to resurface on my thighs unless I could remedy the situation. So guiltily I ran upstairs and got on my exercise bike. Now I pedalled with speed and vengeance in hopes of absolving myself from this act of weakness. Minutes later and some sweat starting to form, I felt better. Better from my feelings of devouring the cake but also better somehow from my upset feelings. I had exercised them away. I should have started with this method of distraction. What is your go to distraction? your vice? I know I won’t be making cake again for a long time. The temptation is too great!