Living life on the edge

For two days now, I'd been staring at the Reese's square lying on my desk, enticingly calling my name. I'd been trying to reason with myself. After all, did I really need a piece of chocolate to tide me through the afternoon slump? Of course not. I could - for instance - choose to eat a piece of fruit instead.

And then the devil on my shoulder replied, or you could eat both, heh heh heh.
And, let's face it, someone has to bear the mantle of holding up the Reese's company through these economic hard times.

I tried to hold off for two days. But it just sat there on my desk, beckoning louder and louder, until all I could do was focus on the chocolate. Everything else, work included, was starting to fade into the background.

So, feigning a frustrated little grunt, I picked up the choclate and started unwrapping it greedily. Slowly, delicately, savouring every moment, envisioning the chocolate-enriched moments of my life ahead. And just then one of my colleagues passed by the door.
"Hey. You know Reese's has peanut butter in it, right?"

I stopped, the chocolate held right by my mouth. The magic was broken.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm not allergic."
"No, I mean about the peanut butter recall. Didn't you see the news about the salmonella outbreak? They're recalling all this peanut butter."
My eyes almost popped out of my head. Here I was, absolutely dying to take a bite, why would anyone do this to me?! My mouth was open, only millimetres away from the chocolate. Maybe I was even drooling, I wouldnt' have known.

I looked at the chocolate. Looked at my colleage. Back at the chocolate.

"I'm going to take my chances," I said, and popped it in my mouth.

Obituary, incase that Reese's cup really is my demise:
She led a full life. There was happiness, there was love, there was chocolate.