My name is Slimma and I am an addict

You should never listen to me. I am but a fragile slimming experiment.

You see I had this cunning strategy for continuing to eat chocolate while losing weight. I thought that by buying kiddy-sized Curly Wurlys instead of family-sized bars of Dairy Milk - the logic being that I am not addicted to Curly Wurlys and could 'take them or leave them' - was pretty darn smart. It worked for a while too.

But that was then.

Now I have something to confess:

My name is Slimma and I am a Curly Wurly addict.

Fortunately Inner Goddess has staged an intervention and, as I write, two deliciously caramely unopened CWs lie abandoned at the bottom of the bin. IG even took the precaution of pouring mushed up cereal over them 'just in case' I hit rock bottom later on and go scavenging. She said it had something to do with 'protecting my dignity'.

For the record, handing over my remaining stash was not easy. Charlton Heston would have been impressed...

Me: You'll have to prize these Curly Wurlys 'OUT OF MY COLD DEAD HANDS!'

IG: If you insist!

Man, she's got a mean half Nelson.

And where's Inner Bitch when you need her?