Crack Cocaine

This is my crack cocaine.

Today at work we played some silly Christmas gift game. My friend, sitting next to me received this as her gift.

I instructed her NOT to open in. Under no circumstances should she open the bucket. It would not be pretty.

She opened it five minutes later.

One can not just eat a few pieces. Oh no. One must eat handfuls.

I go into some kind of desperate out of control panic when I eat it:

Why can't I stop eating it?
Will there be enough?
What if this is the last bucket of Garrett's on the planet?

I try to tell myself to stop. I stop - I wipe off my filthy cheesed hands and then 2 seconds later I am diving in for more. The cycle continues. The wiping of the hands in vein - only to return to the sweet sweet lovely popcorn 1 second later.

I keep eating it and keep eating it. I can't stop. I am like an addict. Why can everyone else stop and I must keep going?

Later in the day the bucket was placed in the kitchen area.

I could not even do work, knowing my fix was just around the corner.

Several times I got up and marched in there for more. YUM!

I was eating it and looking over my shoulder to see if anyone saw me.

I was like an addict in the corner of an alley hitting the rock.

There was a very unpleasant scene in front of the American Girl Store involving me, my friend Natalie, and this popcorn not too long ago. A homeless man was so repulsed by the shoveling we were doing that he did not bother asking us for change. Imagine that.

I am not kidding. It is the crack cocaine.