The cookie chronicals- chapter 1

I always have my logs on for conversations.. that's common tarry.. but after weeks of consistant cookie conversations, i decided it was time to post them in chapters. I will have to dig up the previous logs and then chronicle them.. but I thought this was silly enough to post.

I weigh 85 lbs. I'm 4 ft 11 inches tall. I'm a small girl. Not fat by any means.. fat + me really don't compute when you mention me to anyone that's ever met me.
I mean, I'm not sickly skinny.. but I'm very small, slender, and dainty.

I am completely addicted to cookies however. I have to have a cookie a day. It's my nicotine.. my stick of peppermint of cinnamon gum... the honey in my tea... my feening morning cup of coffee...(dare I say.. my jamba juice *see other addictive sily vices)

To sum up some previous logs of the cookie chronicals- I, the heroe, started off small. It was just a snack when we parted ways. I wanted something sweet to much on while I was stuck to my desk. What better way than those bisquits of love and absolute deliciousness?!

Naturally I grabbed for them. At first it was a joke. I said that it was a way to make me smile. Who doesn't smile when they have a cookie anyway?

The joke progressed.. now the mere mention of the word cookie made the reflex motion to grab one.

One bag became several. I would look in my garbage bag to see multiple bags of cookies. My desk a sea of clutter.. and wrappers.. and crumbs. (Ok so I am not that sloppy, but it made for good fabrication so sue me).

Without a means of transportation I've been more or less chained to my desk.. our path brought us to the grocerry store on Easter. Daddy was helping me get some grocerries.. I said I just want to grab a snack. I went to the aisle.. it was like a glowing ray came out of the sky as I saw the shelves stocked high with unsurmountable amouts of delicousness.

I grabbed 6 bags of cookies. Yes, you heard me right. Six... bags... of cookies. I just couldn't decide.. their power was strong, my will was weak.

A man behind me gave me a glaringly silly raised eybrow.
"Are you umm.. alright there? Do you need any help?"
I looked at my arms, piled to my face high with cookies... and just said.. "Nope. Nope I'm quite alright now. Thank you anyway."
He smiled uncomfortably.
I just said "I know what you're thinking... it's no wonder I have an ass the size of a tank. Yes, I'm thankful I don't or I would die."
He chuckled and grabbed some cookies himself.

I walked to the cart and my father's jaw nearly dropped to the ground, his eyes fell to the floor. My dad, a dead conservative Republican with wire rimmed glasses, looked at me and said in the most monotone and dead serious of a voice said "Wow I think you have a problem. Is there a support group for this?"
"Dad.. pssh come on. a support group for cookies are you kidding me?!"
*crickets*
"Where do I have to research this? For now.. go put some of those back and we'll discuss this later."
Me: "..."

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