Dumb Blondie

I am not one of those girls who needs chocolate everyday or I will whine. I don’t get fro-yo cravings or delight in a bowl of m&m’s. Yet for some reason, at exactly 3:12pm EST, I was knocked, bowled, thrown over my desk chair by a desire for a blondie. Oh, blondies, the sweet, sweet counterpart to the childish brownie. Toss in a few nuts and I will get down on my knees for a blondie.

Onwards, I marched down Madison avenue in search of a suitable blondie. Oh, hello. What do we have here? Tea? A butterscotch blondie? Oh heaven in midtown.

It was the greatest 3:17pm EST I’ve had in months. Had I not been in plain sight, right there amongst the sniveling tea-shop bloggers, I would have moaned about said moment of bliss.

Now that several hours have passed, I am still holding onto that afterglow.

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