Zingers

Today I bought a package of chocolate Zingers from the vending machine.

I ate them as I walked home from my very unproductive session in the library. I don't really even like Zingers, but sometimes I buy them just because. Because they remind me of my mom, because we never had them when I was growing up, and sometimes I just crave the completely unhealthy mediocrity.

Here's the thing: There are three of them in one package. By the time I get to the third one, I am almost always sick of the spongy chocolate cake and over-processed cream; but, without fail, I always eat all three.

I wonder what this says about my personality; I bet someone psychologist-like could read into this. I wonder what they would say.

That was my dinner. Less than scrumptious.