I sat on the sofa eating a bowl of ice cream coated with chocolate syrup, covered with whipped cream, then topped with two Maraschino cherries. Not one, but two. Although the ice cream was low fat vanilla with no added sugar, the rest of it was deliciously bad for me.
Let me preface that last paragraph by saying I’d already finished dinner and wasn’t hungry. But that obvious fact is lost on me. Doesn’t make a difference if I’m stuffed to my eye balls. If I’m idle in the evening, my hands immediately gravitate toward something edible. Continue reading