The chocolate croissant

chocolate croissantRecently I took a seat at the new Parisian Bakery on Dulles and ate a very filling barbecue pork Vietnamese sandwich.

After gazing at the bakery counter, my eyes locked with the drips of buttery brown on a flaky chocolate filled croissant.

I took it to-go.

Later, I was busy at work but something kept calling, “Sheena…Sheena.”

“Why are you leaving me alone in a dark drawer. Please pick me up.”

I was so full already. But I picked up that gigantic croissant that wouldn’t get out of my head.

(When I was 19 and studying abroad in Rome, a chocolate croissant greeted me every morning with a cup of tea. So I think they hold special power over me.)

After a few delightfully torturous bites that tasted so good but stretched my full stomach I would stop. But then it would call to me again.

Today’s lesson: never buy dessert during the workday.

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