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With the Best of Intentions

So…

I’ve been trying really hard to be good.  Not exactly Saint-level good… But definitely better than usual.

I’ve cut down on cake.  And bread.  And chocolate.  A little.

I’ve upped my exercise.  A little.

Wine is a non-negotiable, so let’s not go there!

Anyway, yesterday, after a busy day of taking on board lots of new information, I had a 2hour drive home ahead of me, so I pulled into a service station and bought a coffee.

On a whim I decided to treat myself to an itty bitty, teeny tiny cute little Lindor egg.  Just the one.  THAT’S how good I am being!

When I got to the counter the guy serving said to me, ‘Those eggs are buy one, get one free…’

Uh oh.

I definitely only wanted one.

But… Great idea!  I’ll get another one and take it home for my man, I thought!  Lots of good girlfriend points to be earned from that!

As I was now carrying my purse, my phone, my keys and a cup of coffee, I dropped the eggs into the pocket of my jacket and went back to the car.

Now I haven’t had any of that oozy, delicious, addictive crack known as Lindor for well over a year now, so I didn’t waste any time.  As soon as I was in the car I opened my egg.

Oh wow!

As I bit into the hard outer shell and felt the inner deliciousness start to melt on my tongue, all of my stresses and strains melted away, then and there.

‘I remember you!’ my body said, as every cell in my body turned to a state of liquid joy to match the Lindor lusciousness.

But let me tell you this.  No matter how much I wanted to, I did NOT eat the other egg.  That one was for my man, and no way, no how was I going to eat that.  If ever you doubt my will-power, think back on this and chastise yourself accordingly!

Anyway… Long story short.  Got back home to a fabulous meal, a nice glass of wine and a hug on the rug and somehow I must have forgotten to give the guy the Lindor egg.

In fact, I forgot about the egg all together.

Until today.

It was warm in my Costa-office today, so I took my jacket off and put it in my chair, where it stayed throughout the 6 hours I was there working.

Eventually, when my eyes were going blurry, I decided it was time to have a wander up the high street to the clothes shop at the top.

Brrrr!

It was cold out there.

So I shoved my hand into my pocket.

The pocket with the now, very warm, very soft Lindor egg in it.

My fingers instantly pierced the thin wrapper, and the now not-so-hard outer shell and straight into very runny, very squishy gunge in the middle.  In fact, the whole thing exploded itself all around my hand, all around the pocket and started dripping out of the bottom of my jacket.

Well obviously my reaction was to pull my hand out of my pocket and start to lick the gunk of my fingers as I walked along the street.  What else could I do?

It was the look of horror on the faces of the couple walking towards me that made me realise I’d done a bad thing…

Looking down at my hand I could see how it might have looked to them….

Panicking I rummaged in my bag for some tissues, but there was so much of the slurry-coloured goo it was dripping everywhere.  From my fingers.  Down my top.  Down my leg.   Nightmare!

And that’s when I remembered that I had used the last of my washing tablets…

There was nothing else for it then.

In heels and lots of purple, with brown, sludgey goo dripping and smeared all over me, I strutted around the supermarket as though I were a princess in a tiara.

Business as usual… again!

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