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I opened up the refrigerator and reaching for my tub of yogurt I encountered a void. Pat, pat, pat, nothingness! Small problem, the space where my yogurt usually resides was empty. Open space in our refrigerator is a sight to behold and it should have been my first clue that there was a problem.

Instead of questioning this anomaly, I tore the refrigerator apart looking for my yogurt. Out came the milk, out came the leftovers, out came all the produce in the produce bins. Why do we have wilted parsley? Wait, is that parsley? I found several containers of assorted dairy products well past their expiration dates, but no yogurt. As I stood there, surrounded by the contents of our refrigerator, I started to fume. Someone had eaten the last of my yogurt. There was going to be a reckoning.

Now, you should know, this is important stuff. Yogurt and a heaping scoop of chocolate protein powder is what passes for dessert around here. More specifically, it’s what passes for CHOCOLATE. If you close your eyes and pretend really hard, it sorta tastes like chocolate cheesecake. Or, at least that’s what I tell myself. I am the Mayor of Denial and the Grand Empress of Delusion.

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Nobody should be messing with my chocolate fix. Nuh uh. So, I restocked the refrigerator minus the expired goods. I whipped myself around and began a stiff march up the stairs to IZ’s office to give him a piece of my mind, when I noticed something in the corner of my eye.

It was my yogurt. On the kitchen counter. Where I’d put it about 60 seconds before I opened up the refrigerator and noticed it missing.

It’s a good thing I saw the yogurt before I got to his office; because clearly I can’t afford to lose another piece of my mind.