Tuesday 17 February 2015

Saying Farewell Until My Favourite Bunny Arrives

Today marks my one final day of pure, relentless freedom before, within what will seem like a click of a finger, snatched away from my grasp. Letting go will initially be such a great struggle as I get used to living without it - or seeing my beloved treasure placed before my eyes, yet it will not be within my reach. For those who haven't made a vow to abstain from it, they will have the honour of using it to their pleasure while I moan in the shadows, distraught at having no right to enjoy it like the rest of the world.

Still, once I muster the willpower to get out of bed, I will find one precious thing: hope. Created for the purpose of keeping my spirits alive, hope will remind me that, during the worst moments, I will one day be able to regain my freedom. In fact, I only have to wait six-and-a-half weeks before hope redeems me with what I desperately cherish, so it isn't as though I'm waving an eternal farewell or anything; just a bit of patience is needed to keep me relatively sane in the meantime.

Well, isn't there plenty to love about Lent? The day before we chuck out the things that constantly tempt us into a sad-looking box, we have to get through one last glorious day - Shrove Tuesday, Pancake Day or Mardi Gras (the last I particularly dislike as I really don't like to associate 'fat' with light and fluffy pancakes) - before the hard part truly begins.

Luckily, I don't have to wait 365 days to tuck into several pancakes - whose texture is fluffier than my kittens' long-haired fur - because I'm quite fortunate to have them several times a year (without a sickening splat of Nutella squeezed on mine!). Pancake Day is always a day that ignites a spark of excitement within me while the winter continues to chill our homes, making summer seem even further away than it can possibly be. Plus, you would have to be fibbing if you claimed to not love pancakes, oozing with freshly squeezed lemon and sprinkles of sweet sugar - how I live for this day every year!

Yet, at the back of my mind, I can't ignore what I'm going to do in the next twenty four hours or so: giving up my beloved chocolate. A decision like this is definitely not made easily, though I didn't really give much consideration to the seriousness of it when I made my mind up several weeks ago; you would be amazed by how distracting a simple Maths test can be! Now Lent is here, it would seem really foolish to change my mind at the last moment, simply because I'm panicking at the prospect of not eating a chocolate chip cookie for six weeks.

Besides, I'm determined to prove one thing to myself: I'm not really that vain. Yes, I might hear you snorting under your breath, but think of it - is there anything more embarrassing than being vain enough to give up before you have even given up? And, whether it motivates me more or not, I have given up chocolate in the past, not tasting a trace of it until Easter Sunday; unlike morphing into a supermodel overnight, abstaining from chocolate is possible!

Therefore, there are no excuses: from midnight, absolutely no chocolate will pass through my lips, who shall miss their smudge-like stains dearly. Obviously, this is easier said than done, but life is tough - chocolate is just a blessing which, if I had it all the time, I wouldn't appreciate. And, believe it or not, I'm quite glad to be having a break from it; after a while, all things containing cocoa gets a bit boring!

Here goes... today is my final opportunity to raid the cupboards, find every last scrap of chocolate that I can and stuff myself into a cocoa-induced coma which will keep me unconscious until I'm finally allowed to return to my fabulous-tasting friend in six weeks' time. If it wasn't for feeling a bit under the weather, I might have been tempted to do so, but I already feel like giving up right now. Part of me thinks that I won't be saying the same by the end of the month, but who knows?


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