For some strange reason, I miss eating chocolates lately.
See, I already stopped having sweet cravings like this. For years. But lately, as I go back to the rush of media writing work, I seem to be looking for such sweets as I write. I guess more than coffee, this works for me now. Hm. So I guess the usual stock of Hershey's plain chocolate bars will once again be visible in my fridge, just like before. Hm.
I'm doomed. Or my thighs are. And belly. Frak.
But why is this sentimental? I guess I also miss the times when I hung out with my mom and younger sis at home as we split one whole bar of chocolate during the '80s. See, during those days, you can't just buy any US-made chocolate bar anywhere. We get our supply at vending machines inside the US base in Clarkfield, Pampanga where my father worked for a couple of years. When I was ten, I learned what a nickel, dime and quarter means, and I loved using them in vending machines that spit out such chocolate bars. Yeah, I miss those moments.
Ah, Three Musketeers. I miss those as well. I am so doomed. Grocery this weekend. Hm.