Tonight my exercise pants aren't dirty with sweat, blood, and tears due to any effort I put forth in the gym. No no. Tonight, I lounge on the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket with Cinderella's castle on it. My nice, black exercise capris are covered in flour and the chocolate cupcakes are in the over, baking to perfection. Instead of exercising, I baked...and I refuse to feel guilty about it.

You know, sometimes exercise is not the answer. Most of the time, it is. A good workout can lift almost any weary spirit. A good sweat-fest can make you feel elated and high from the endorphins coursing through your warm veins. You will, without a doubt, feel better about a workout tomorrow than you will about the undetermined number of chocolate cupcakes you will consume. Exercise would be better in almost any situation. Almost.

I say almost because in some situations, on some days, chocolate is better. You find out your ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend. You have spent the majority of the past three weeks reading depositions by individuals that hardly speak English and yet there are still 100 pages left. Work, bills, the cleanliness of your living quarters (or lack there of) and your questionable hygiene habits. When all of this builds up, the only thing that can cut through the haze and grime is chocolate. Undiluted, down and dirty chocolate. And not a piece of chocolate. A mound of chocolate cake, sweet and moist and brimming with sin.

So here I sit, in my flour-dusted exercise pants, as the scent of chocolate envelops me, whispering, "It's ok. The first one won't count. Or the second."