Somebody brought a plate of homemade brownies into work yesterday. In the old days, I would have been obsessed with figuring out how many I could eat before other people would notice.
But yesterday the very sight of them repulsed me. I couldn't even stand to have them in my line of vision.
Part of my brain remembered that chocolate used to bring me joy, but it was like remembering that time you stubbed your toe; you can remember that it happened, but not at all what if felt like.
Where is the joy in life when homemade brownies are repulsive? What's next? Butterflies are annoying? Sunshine giving me a migraine? World peace turns out to be boring? IF YOU CAN'T COUNT ON BROWNIES, WHAT CAN YOU COUNT ON?