I have to go home and eat more chocolate.

Still though, you know?

- Um-hmm.

Some mornings the impulse is there—quick, though.  Not sustained.  No, not sustained.  Forget about it.

- Look, I can't remember, because when you said forget about it, I immediately did.

I'm not cured, by any means.  Not by a long shot. 

- A football field.  Definitely, a field.

Maybe next week.

- You will be cured, on Tuesday.

Yet the impulse still remains...

- Like a tall man who sits down in his small vehicle.

A real tall man...that I wonder, what my life would be like if I were to check my stats today.  I don't ever want to go back, and wrestle those irrational emotions. 

- You can check your stats on February the 27th, where you will also be cured, but don't forget to buy the milk—oh, honey, your mom and dad really love you.  We just want to see you wrestle a beast.  Fifteen to twenty minutes is all we ask, before he goes back to the circus.  And the neighbors are really excited.  They want to see, too!