"I'm back," I said, as I pushed my friends/neighbors' apartment door open.
Erin cheerfully greeted me from the couch. "Welcome back!" She said without judgment.
I'd only been gone for five minutes -- approximately the amount of time it had taken me to walk across the street to my apartment, go into my bedroom and decide I had to return.
"I'm leaving this here, because if it's open and with me I'll eat the entire thing." I confessed, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I set the offending item down on the coffee table and rushed toward the door, afraid of what might happen if I paused to think about what I was giving up.
"Bye!" I shouted as they laughed through a pair of good-natured "Okay, Diana's!"
I hadn't wanted to try it that night. When my friend Hank gave me the two giant-sized Cadbury Scroggin bars (a gift from his friends in New Zealand) earlier in the evening, I thanked him kindly, but had no intention of eating either of them until I ran out of my stash of Fling chocolate bars and Hershey's Bliss Dark Chocolate pieces. But then Erin wanted to try a bite before I took both of them home with me, and as Erin ripped into one of the bars, I let Erin convince me to taste it also.
"Just a bite," I told her while popping a small square of the rich chocolate with raisins and almond chunks into my mouth. I acknowledged its deliciousness and continued on my way.
But as I walked across the street, that one bite turned into three bites.
And as I walked into my bedroom, it turned into six bites.
And as I popped open my laptop, it turned into eight bites.
"Oh no, this won't do!" I said out loud. I wrapped the now half-eaten bar up and paraded back across the street.
It was too good. Too chock full of chewy raisins and crunchy almond pieces. It was like trail mix in chocolate bar form -- like the Sweet & Salty mix at Trader Joe's that I had to stop buying because I would consume the entire bag in a two day period. I had to get the open bar out of my apartment right then and there before it turned into a big fat stomach ache.
Fortunately for my internal organs, the wrapped bar stayed wrapped until the following day when I broke off three of the absurdly thick squares for my lunch dessert. At nearly 180 calories, it was a heftier post-lunch treat than a typical day, but my mouth (and stomach) didn't seem to mind in the least.
I informed Hank via instant message that "I LOVE THE SCROGGIN BAR," changed my Twitter status to "In awe of the Cadbury Scroggin bar. Must try very hard not to consume entire 250 grams in one sitting," and began composing this blog post in my head.
I hadn't wanted to eat it that night. I'd wanted to go home and eat a Jello chocolate vanilla swirl pudding cup while I watched "30 Rock" on my laptop. I'd wanted to end the day with a healthy treat -- not one that would leave my sugar detectors firing for the rest of the night.
All that said, I'm glad that Erin convinced me to try a bite. And I'm really glad that once I finish the bar that is currently hibernating in my office desk drawer, I'll have to go all the way to New Zealand to get another.