Chocolate Baby Gouda Cheese

“Chocolate baby Gouda cheese. Chocolate baby Gouda cheese. Chocolate baby Gouda cheese.” That’s what was running through my mind when I woke up this morning. I realize that making such a confession might very well land me in the nuthouse, but if you’re a regular reader of womanneversleeps, then you probably know I need my noggin examined. You may even wake with such thoughts and wonder if anyone else out there does. See, I’m here for you.

This chocolate/cheese mantra wasn’t inspired by my dreaming, either, because in my dream I was in a room with various kinds of lighting arranged all over a spackled ceiling. The light bulbs had all been unscrewed, and I was standing on a chair trying to fix the one with the candelabra bulb hanging over the piano. And yet when the sunlight came pouring through my window, “chocolate baby Gouda cheese” is what I was thinking.

The real problem with these mental litanies is the lack of punctuation. Was it an exclamation? “Chocolate, baby! Gouda cheese!” Or was it a checklist? “Chocolate, baby, Gouda cheese.” Let’s hope it wasn’t “Chocolate baby, Gouda cheese.”

They say your body craves the nutrients it needs. My body always needs chocolate. And come to think of it, it’s been a long time since I had any Baby Gouda. A vital nutritional deficiency does sound like a pretty logical explanation. No?

I hope it’s a chocolate-covered nuthouse, at least.


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