There aren’t many people who’d move house based upon an addiction to chocolate, but you don’t know what it’s like. I don’t know why I keep buying it, and I don’t know why I keep eating it after I’ve bought it, but that’s the way it is. I’m caught in a cycle of destruction.
That is, I USED to be. I specifically chose a place where the kitchen window is positioned directly in front of a busy shopping street. I’ve taken down the curtains- because who needs curtains in the kitchen anyway?- and now the fridge and cupboards are in full view of everyone. If I want something unhealthy, I have to go and grab it in front of everyone. Sounds awful, and it IS awful. I haven’t touched chocolate since I got here.
Of course, my brain is grasping for sugar hits in other ways. I had to go into the conveyancing office to sort out my vendors statement, and I ended up by myself for a few minutes in an office with a bowl of breath mints. I took one, hoping it’d be the kind that are far too strong to have multiple at once, but no. They were your garden-variety chewy mints, so very satisfying to eat and perfect for shoving into your mouth.
I tried to resist. But then, my brain plays the most nefarious tricks. ‘This is a property document! You need a sugary jolt so you can look over this vendors statement and make sure everything is okay! Take the mints, take them now, or your property documents may not be in order!!’
I ate all the mints, obviously. And I’d go around to every single of the best conveyancers Melbourne has to offer, to eat their mints, because I have a serious problem. So, the next step is to lock myself in the apartment, only have food delivered, and have my receipts sent to Mum so she can pinpoint anything unhealthy. I’ll detox. But a bit of chocolate might help me look over this vendors statement, because it’s quite important to my financial future NO. Have some self-control, Alex, for heaven’s sake.
-Alex