Slave to the Cocoa Bean

I was at a baby shower this afternoon. It was a wonderful event. Lovely to see everybody, incredible food, gorgeous mother to be. My only question is why is it that I insist on gorging myself until I feel like I am carrying a little one of my own? It doesn't matter how much I have promised myself before the actual event that I "will not go near the dessert table under any circumstances," I always land up sampling, no... cross that out, inhaling large quantities of food, particularily dessert! I have issues with chocolate (if you haven't figured that out by now, well....I hate to say it, but you're just stupid!) What would it take to keep me away from the chocolate? (aside from diabetes, or falling into a comatos state) I'll let you know if I ever figure that out. In the mean time I'll continue to make promises that, like so many New Years Resolutions, will continue to fall by the wayside. I am however, secure in the knowledge that though I have not yet met a chocolate I didn't like, one of these days I will. It is at this time I will be freed from the iron grip of that oh so horrible slave master....the cocoa bean.