A whole bar of Dairy Milk, you say?

Tonight I am having trouble typing. I’m actually having trouble propping myself up at my desk… and even focusing on my computer screen.

The reason?

Nope, not a hangover, although given my recent behaviour you’d be forgiven for having a guess at that one. It’s actually because I seem to be having a huge sugar crash, having recently eaten a family-sized bar of Dairy Milk.

I’d like to present the excuse that I bought it to support my new local economy here in Derby – specifically the lovely Murco petrol station just round the corner from Lovely Anna’s house. I’ve been a semi-regular customer for years as it’s right en-route to the office, but now it’s also my most local fuel stop apart from Morrisons (which is, of course, out of bounds).

And it’s staffed by a really nice bunch of smiley guys.

So when I stopped for some diesel earlier and spotted the Dairy Milks on offer for £1, I decided it would be rude not to.

Clearly it was bought with the intention of being put in my desk drawer and taken out one square at a time, during times of need over the next few weeks.

And it has lasted a mere four hours.

Oops.