I have a probably unhealthy adoration of boiling hot hot chocolate. Boil the water, pour over Carnation hot chocolate, stir and DRINK. Waiting is for pussies.
Maybe it’s because of my constant coldness. Maybe it’s a love of intense sensations. Maybe I’m a masochist on many levels.
I don’t know for sure, but I do know that I can’t get enough of it when it’s in that blindingly hot stage.
And yes, that’s right. I have absolutely nothing inspirational to say and while some would suggest that such a situation calls for silence, today I choose to blather in my pointlessness AND share it with you, rather than sit quietly, twiddling my thumbs, and contemplating the misty rain that is encouraging me to stay indoors.
I’m sitting here, thinking about what I want to do with my life and how most ‘fun’ options involved less income.
But then, I don’t want to give up my current lifestyle. After all, what if I couldn’t afford hot chocolate anymore? My vocal chords might be saved, but my soul would be lost without access to the glorious agony of too-hot-liquid coursing down my throat into my belly.
And isn’t belly a great word? Our bellies are wonderful things. They hold food and scalding hot beverages. They carry babies (think the broad arena of our belly area, not the specific organs involved lol) for some people. Others of us just look like we’re carrying babies (recently took a trip with great friends and I came back with a “vacation baby” because the food was just that good). Our bellies can move and dance. They remind us with gurgles and grumps to look after ourselves by eating. They hold our nervousness for us. They know true satisfaction.
Bellies are good.
Bellies like to be stroked. Well, so does the rest of our bodies, but let us not get sidetracked from the wonder of the belly. Even the word has such a full and lovely ring to it. It leads our mouth right into a smile, how beautiful is that?
Sometimes my emotions take over my belly and it transforms from a happy little elf or other such creature into a demonizing monster intent on culinary destruction of a grand sort. I really shouldn’t blame my belly for that, though. It isn’t my belly’s fault that my emotional issues like to smother themselves under a pile of food. Wafer thin mint?
But today is not about the negative places the belly gets dragged to (and I mean dragged because it’s not like it’s a simple happy sensation being overfull from emotionally driven eating), it’s about the glory of the belly. Particularly when filled with scalding hot chocolate.
Hail the BELLY!