Goopy Gobs of Gumballs – Dead Deer

Goopy Gobs of Gumballs

Fighting  on fronts was barely possible. Maybe focus on one thing at a time. Urgent action was needed, it was true, but the heaving edifice of the situation had surely to be tackled one brick at a time. They say it takes ninety days to form a habit. Can it be that strong on that day, day ninety-one? Only one way to find out, of course.

Where to start? Well, sugar is the enemy, obviously. A clean break? Surely not! The daily ritual of the visit to the holiest of holies, was so ingrained as to laugh openly in the face of the ninety day stripling. Cutting down was not compromising, was it? in fact it is a wise and sensible, mature, attitude. Start small. Even the longest journey starts with a single step. Today the visit would yield smaller results, tomorrow fewer still, until the visits stopped and the ninety day clock started ticking.

So the small step was over the threshold, once more dear friend, of the daily visitation. A customary gasp and pause to drink in the awe, and maybe even to pay respects to all that is precious here. Today was different, though, for today was the start of The Cut Back. Requesting 150 grams of each, rather than 200, perhaps. Three bars instead of four. This was going well. Until … well, until.

Yes. A new item, this had not been seen before. Details were urgently, yet calmly, demanded. They were forthcoming. It was simply astounding. All the road to good intentions is lined with fresh innovations, it seems. So the restricted order suddenly exploded to be bigger than ever.

“Give me gigantic goopy gobfuls of the gumballs, please.”

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Today I wrote  between 23:48 and 23:58.  I was prompted by an idea here.

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