As usual, I'm on lunch at work right now, and there's trouble brewing.
What trouble could happen on a lunch hour, you ask?
First, get your mind out of the gutter, I'm not talking about that.
The trouble I'm referring to involves the fact that there's chocolate cake in the fridge right now.
CHOCOLATE FUCKING CAKE.
And there's even a note attached to it - "Help Yourself".
What kind of sick individual would do something like that? Why would they mess with my head?
Do you realize how tempting that is? That's like putting water in front of a duck, except there's acid in the water, and the duck knows there's acid, but he still wants to swim in that cool fucking water, and flap his little ducky wings and enjoy himself.
You see what I mean? (Re-reading that, even I don't know what I meant.)
I'm just going to pretend it isn't there. I'll just ignore it. I'll ignore every sugary slice, every morsel of tasty chocolate.
After all, it worked for the duck.