Smarties are crack. No, not the Canadian Smarties, aka Nestle’s M&M’s (with a better quality chocolate).
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved the good ol’ fashioned, pressed powdered dextrose discs. And it has to be from Ce De Candy Inc., not some cheap imitation.
I prefer to eat them by color, after separating them into piles. Typically, I can’t just eat one. Sometimes I become so overwhelmed by desire I forgo the segregation step and cram a whole roll in my mouth. I know; it’s a problem.
Back in the late mid-90′s, I had a much worse problem with them. Around Halloween, I’d buy a 2 or 3 or 5 lbs. bag and horde them in my desk at work. I’d gorge myself on the bag for weeks. Usually, it was only one bag a year, however, there a few two-bag binges.
It’s been years since I bought a bulk bag. I’ve been able to eat a couple of rolls, here and there, when they cross my path. Yesterday, I found myself fantasizing about those days of yore, having a seemingly never-ending stash at an arm’s-length.
Thus far, I’ve remained steadfast and in control. No drugstore visit last night to the candy aisle. Yet, coworkers brought in their kids’ candy today, and I cherrypicked eight rolls which are sitting next to me on my desk. I can smell them, but haven’t opened one.
I’m using them as motivation to get stuff done today… yet I’ve just wasted 15 minutes writing this panegyric lauding them. Obsessed?