It's 3pm I'm in dire need of chocolate

I am in dire need of chocolate.

I’ve had the urge under control for a while, so it seems worth mentioning now because I’ve a few things to get off my chest.

You see a few weeks ago, Racquel dragged me to WeightWatchers. In a Methodist Hall at 10am. The details are important. I went without breakfast, the venue wasn’t much fun. I borrowed her ballet slippers and wore as little as decently possible. 

Their scales was wrong.

And it cost 20 euro to join and get weighed. That’s the equivalent of an off-peak blow-dry which is way more satisfying.

I only wanted to lose a few pounds, the ones that didn’t fall off in the juice detox. But apparently I can’t miss a week until I reach my target and become a gold member. Racquel persuaded me to go to a Dublin 4 meeting for the next one. It’s in that hotel that Sean Dunne’s missus dreamt up a farcical figure for, as she languished by a pool in Thailand. And the portfolio languishes in NAMA and our property tax fills the many black holes created by their ilk.

I digress, but you know where I mean. It’s still sitting there in the new ‘Knightsbridge’ hosting WeightWatchers meetings, while herself plays house in Connecticut. 

The D4 scales was wrong too. 

This week I went back to the Methodist Hall on my own, having got the red wine sandwiches under control. Their scales was on the mend.

I even stayed for the ‘talk’. The motivating lady is super. She’s from the days when women had to give up work when they got married, when people had dinner at lunchtime. I missed last week so I didn’t get to hear all the Mother’s Day warnings.  She asked how did we get on that day? The other ladies, for there are many and only one man, gushed about breakfast in bed, fancy dinners, flowers and chocolates. 

I felt alone, isolated, an outcast. They just wouldn’t have understood.

At 6pm on Mother’s Evening CC#2 arrived home with a glittery card full of appreciation and guff.

His gift? 

A box of Ariel Liqui-tabs. The luxury ones, not the Lidl ones.

I suppose it was more practical than flowers and they smell nice. He’d used the last one the day before and I refused to buy another pack for a week.

CC#2 was a bit more traditional, giving me files for my college notes.

So, on my way out of WeightWatchers yesterday I splurged on the 3 euro, 5-pack of caramel and chocolate bars that are only 2 points each. I reckoned on one-a-day at most.

Last night I drove to TV3 for a female audience with Vincent Browne, on how liberated we are not. 

After a classic VB rude interruption, I came home for dinner with the man formerly known as absentee boyfriend. 

He needed some chocolate after my fine roast chicken and vegetables. All I had were WW caramels which I reluctantly offered. Here’s what he did …