262/365

Late afternoon doldrums and I'm all over the chance for a snack from the little store across the street. "Just a coke," I say, thinking that he'll come back with my usual 12 ounce bottle.

1 liter of coke and the sugary, chocolate-filled, chocolate-frosted, hot dog bun-like, cavity in a sealed bag (and look at the label- is that 'fro impressive or what?!), Nito later, I am thinking that I might later regret that momentary lapse in judgment...