The Thoughts of a Frumpy Professor

............................................ ............................................ A blog devoted to the ramblings of a small town, middle aged college professor as he experiences life and all its strange variances.

Tuesday, November 30, 2004


The following are comments I have for those who commented on my post from November 29th:

Thank you all for your suggestions. Specific comments follow:

Phil said: Allow me to offer you some ideas to deflect boredom and restlessness.

Boredom is never a problem with me because I actually relish doing nothing. A long time ago I had a friend who said that if one does nothing, do nothing well. That is what I strive for. It is how I meditate, by attempting (and this is hard for me) to become an empty vessel. It is amazing to me how entertaining this is. I can live life, not as a hardship, but as a pasttime. (Per my favorite author, Henry Thoreau).

I don't always do nothing. At times, my anxiety emanating from my naturally ocurring wanderlust motivates me to spring to action, volunteering for the most mundane, menial tasks at the local Salvation Army, Homeless Shelter, our home, our neighborhood, etc. to do things for others that nobody else wants to do, which need to be done, all without any recognition whatsoever.

Just some ideas.

Phil... I agree with you about learning the ability to enjoy "nothingness" and I can at times find the ability to relish that very non-event. Unfortunately, I think my mindset is different than only boredom at the moment.

Dean said: To me, the logical cure for boredome is to do things you would normally never do. Since I don't know what city you live in, I can't recommend a Ferris Bueller type of city specific gameplan, but here is a generic suggested agenda.

If you have some version of the holiday blues, I suggest that you skip work for a day, rent A Muppet Christmas Carol, watch it at high volume, then visit the gaudiest mall in your neighborhood and buy a bunch of mindless video games AND an electric scooter. Drink copious amounts of whiskey, go ice-skating, ride home on your electric scooter and then play your video games until dawn. Consider getting an Elasti-girl tattoo to commemorate your evening, but at a minimum, don't forget to bring your digital camera so that you can memorialize your experiences for your blog. (At least get the movie...)

Dean... A wonderful suggestion. The devil-may-care attitude is definetly one worth emulating on occassion. I especially enjoyed the electric scooter and the whiskey aspects. Unfortunately, The aspect of my mindset that is the most troublesome is that I lack the mental energy to do a damn thing at the moment.

Nanoglitch said: This happens to everybody at some point where everything just seems to lose value and meaning. At this point one is faced with two options. You either find the meaning in it or you learn to ignore it.

Nanoglitch... You seem to have hit the nail on the head. It seems that I find little to no meaning in life at the moment. Your suggestions on either finding new meaning or ignoring it are exactly correct with my frame of thought at the moment. Unfortunately, what I would like to do (find new meaning) seems beyond my grasp at the moment, and ignoring the feelings seems equally unatainable currently.

* * * * * * *

In a nutshell, life seems too fragile and death and doom seem to lurk around each corner. The various illnesses in my family and the stresses of these illnesses and the fragmentation of my thoughts due to these harsh realities of life make me feel listless. I know it is impossible to have life be happy all of the time, but in the same vein must life be nearly always fearful and sad... with death or illness of loved ones lurking around every corner? Must there never be a time of feeling "happy-go-lucky" without a worry in the world after a certain age? I so miss that feeling of openess from childhood. Some of the beautiful memories that were never tinged with the feelings of saddness and despair and fear include:

1. Getting my very own clarinet and starting to play it in the school band in 4th grade.
2. My first library card when I was in third grade.
3. The excitement of seeing and riding in my grandfather's new car when I was in the third grade
4. Walking in the woods with my father following a huge blizzard in the winter of 3rd grade
5. Cutting, building, and decorating my first gingerbread house with my mother near Christmas during third grade.
6. The first time I snuck out back with one of my father's pipes and a pinch of Sir Walter Raleigh from his tobacco canister in the summer between third and fourth grade.
7. Catching and watching a Luna moth my father and I stayed up most of the evening to capture.
8. Reading the Origin of Species in the 4th grade.

These are just a few of many memories from childhood. I know we all have similar memories. It is the lack of baggage that these memories have associated with them that is what I yearn for and miss. I do not know how to get back (if it is at all possible) that feeling of oneness with a perfect moment... to not have the weight/baggage/fear/despair of the world as a yoke upon me which I can never escape.


Monday, November 29, 2004

Hello Friends:

I am bored and restless. I am not sure what is going on in my mind, but I do not want to do anything. Nothing seems to help me find joy as of late. I feel as if I am simply going through the motions. I seem to have lost my "zest" and cannot find a way to get it back.

Please help.


Friday, November 26, 2004

Hello Friends:

As is my usual pattern on the day after Thanksgiving, I am avoiding any travel towards a retail community as it is true insanity for anyone who does not like to shop to be in any store whatsoever on this day. Of course, my wife and various other family members will be all over the roads filling their respective vehicles to the brim with all sorts of items. Unfortunately, a heavy and somewhat early snow has prevented me from accomplishing my typical day-after Thanksgiving routine... placing Christmas lights and decorations on the house. An anticipated warm spell on Saturday, however, may make it likely for me to hang lights and other items on that day.

The holiday was its typical festive, chaotic, pleasant, yet loud self. In some of the talk we had, I found that my youngest brother has been regularly reading my writings and although he has no inclination to write his own blog, he and I discussed the possibility of him submitting items/essays he would like to see posted. In our discussion, we both came to the realization that it might be interesting to have a slightly different perspective on some of the topics I write about, and he seemed interested in pursuing this.

Therefore, I will leave it to you, the readers to give comments on whether you would find this an interesting, albeit occasional addition to the site.


Monday, November 22, 2004

Mewling & Puking

The above line is from a Shakesperean play (I cannot recall which one at the moment), and is a sadly appropriate title for today. The flu bug has struck and has struck damn hard. Each and every member of my household has been struck down by this horrendous malady. My wife and my elderly mother have been the most effected, but each and every one of us has been ill. The saddest part of all is that the illness necessitated the hospitalization of my elderly mother due to the vomiting and resultant dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, and medication issues. The damnable bug began to strike all of us down on Thursday, and I am only now resuming even a modicum of normal routine.

It is my hope and prayer that while the rest of us have seemingly returned to normal, that my elderly mother may also swiftly return to health. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers so that she may be healthy and happy again soon and that if she has any medication changes, that they are excellent changes for increased health and vitality.


Wednesday, November 17, 2004

The Rock Squash

Well, I am in a poor mood. First, I have laryngitis and feel lousy. But more than that, I am angry and hurt by my wife. I think she has treated me quite unfairly and I dislike it enormously.

The situation is as follows and can be gleaned somewhat from the essay a few days ago as well.... I have been struggling with what to do about a national presentation I needed to give at a conference (this in effect is a publication of my work, and publishing my research work is important for my career, and my career is important for my family's livelihood). In the previous essay, I mentioned how I felt I was between a rock and a hard place. Well, no truer words were ever spoken. My wife was adamant about going to the conference with me (it was two days) and so I arranged it through very intensive, very energy draining work on my part (I had to arrange for care of an elderly parent... normally I perform the caregiving, but while at the conference I had to find another relative). The net effect is that through a very, very strenuous effort, I DID make it so my wife could go with me on this two day trip, I DID arrange care of the elderly parent, I DID arrange every thing for this trip... including preparing slides for the presentation and backup mechanisms as well. And I re-arranged my course load as well.

I would have thought this would be penance enough for all my sins, but of course not. The trip itself was very nice... we had a good time... and my talk was very well received.... in fact I was invited to give the talk at another national meeting in June and was asked to write my talk into an article for publication in an international journal of higher education. All very good things, correct? Yes. Or so I thought. We went home. There the trouble began.

After we arrived home, my wife started to develop her "mood". Even though I tend to not like using coarse words, when something like the "mood" feels so rude and coarse, I think those words are appropriate.... one of her "moods" is to be pissy about every damn thing, to show anger and disdain for everything that happens in our family, and to be rude and unpleasant about damn near every thing. As this is not a new thing, I have come to anticipate this crabbiness (other words could be substituted, but I dislike using them even if appropriate), although I dislike it enormously and become very sad and frustrated to my very core every time it happens. Yesterday, when I was feeling the worst from my laryngitis, she was acting out even more than before and I knew we were in for one of her stormcloud outbursts.

When my wife is in this "mood", the same exact pattern happens each and every time. 1) she is utterly pissed at me and at our life situation (which by the way I think is pretty damn decent), 2) she has to complain and describe how "a" or "b" was mean to her and how "a", "b", or "c" treated her like she was "stupid" or "unfit" or "uncaring" or something similar, 3) I try to gently explain how I see the situation differently from her and I believe that "a" or "b" or "c" was saying and meaning something very different. This leads to an argument where the first step is for my wife to holler/cry that I do not understand and that I do not treat her nicely and that no one "appreciates" her. I have to bite my tongue at this as I shower my wife with affection and care and when she is NOT IN HER MOOD she would agree that I am very affectionate and loving. My response to this is to try to reason with her and often it takes an hour or two of intense, very emotionally draining discussion and debate to get her to see the issue more clearly. Sometimes this happens in a few hours, sometimes in a few days. But most of the time she eventually returns to her senses and sees the situation more accurately. This almost always leads to 4) where she the sobs and cries nearly hysterically for at least an hour upwards to three or four where she is apologetic and feels she has "ruined" everything and that she does not know how she could have thought this or that about "a", "b", or "c" and that she wants me to forgive her. This eventually leads to 5) where she feels everything is resolved and in fact she usually says 6) "Oh, Honey, I feel so much better now, after getting that off my chest! I really do! It is so important for me to be able to talk these things out! I love you!"

By this time, my head is reeling and my mind spinning out of control because of the inundation of emotion from her and trying to deal with it, cope with it, fix it, and at the same time not become overwhelmed by it. Most of the time I lose... and I do feel like crap and overwhelmed because I do not understand the illogic of it all. Most of the time I would like to run away and go screaming through the streets or better yet get a fifth of scotch, but because I do not think it wise to drink when sad or upset about family, I do not do so. Instead, I typically go outside to an isolated area near the woods, and sit and think and smoke my pipe. Many times I cry, and I have big, salty tears stream into my moustache and beard. My tears are tears of frustration and anger and exhaustion. There is absolutely nothing more harsh and harder to deal with than her "mood", and there is absolutely no way for me to prevent it from occurring or to avoid the wrath of it.

The specifics this time... after all the enormous effort I went to, we had a wonderful time on our little "get-away" trip. Things were wonderful during the trip and during our return home. But then nearly from the moment we get home, the ugly "mood" rears its head. I tried to ignore it the first evening after my wife got utterly riled up about my asking a relative if she had any extra robotussin (she usually does and throws it away regularly to buy new) so I wouldn't have to make a special trip to buy some on the way home. For some reason this made my wife ballistic and she ranted on about how I should have "asked her first about the robotussin!" and that I "don't treat her right!" I could see the storm brewing and simply tried to let things slide in the foolish hope the "mood" might not continue. The second day I can tell the full gale-force winds of the "mood" are upon us and I steel myself for the impending storm. Last evening, as I sit, barely able to talk, it started.... 1) she is dissatisfied about near everything and states that the trip was "so good" that real day-to-day life seems so horribly sad in comparison, 2) she thinks my sister is saying negative things about her and how she does things, 3) I explain that my sister was not likely saying any such thing... first of all, my sister doesn't really give a care about any of the things my wife thinks she is being critical about, second, my sister has had enough hardships and issues of her own that the last thing she would do is criticize what happens in another family member's home. This leads to an argument where the first step is where my wife to hollers/cries that I do not understand her and that I do not "appreciate" her. I have to bite my tongue as best I can and do not try to swallow the bait. Eventually after about an hour and a half of talking, where I force myself to remain calm (which was especially hard this time because I felt so sick) and not respond to her rage and anger in kind, she begins to see how some of her thinking has been very unfair and illogical. She then starts 4) where she the sobs and cries nearly hysterically for roughly an hour where she is apologetic and feels she has "ruined" everything. This is followed by 5) & 6) where she feels everything is hunky-dorey now and she again comments on how she feels so much better.

Well, I feel quite angry about it, myself. First, I am angry at the number of hours I must spend dealing with her "mood". Second, I am getting very tired of her emotional outbursts that are built around illogic. Just because a person feels emotions does not mean she has the right to act out because of them. I am also angry that the supposed reason for the "mood" this time is because things were "so much better" on the trip than they are in real-life. That just makes me so frustrated and sad that I do not have any idea how to get beyond it. I also do not like that my hoisting all of her anger and rage upon myself to help her "deal" with it makes her feel so much better and yet makes me feel lousy as hell.

There... I have no idea if there is anything I can or should do about it. I think probably there is nothing to do about it other than what I normally do.... get away to the woods and smoke my pipe. But... it DOES HURT and it is NOT ENJOYABLE to live with.


Monday, November 15, 2004

Hello Friends:

I am not feeling the greatest physically at the moment. I have the start of what may be a cold. I am going to take it easy today. However, I had a question.... I was looking at Kevin's blog ( ) and find that his "Discussion Board" is gone. I was never allowed to post on the discussion board because Mr. Barbeiux banned me from posting, but I did occasionally read the comments and questions of others. Apparently something else transpired that caused Kevin to remove this site as well. If anyone has information about what happened, I would be interested in learning the details.


Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Now I Can Understand

Before reading this essay, please, please, please read the following line.... perhaps 20 or 30 times: I am not suicidal, I know that suicide is a horrid, horrible, awful thing to do to a family. I promise you that I am NOT suicidal. And, there is NEVER any risk that I would do such an act. It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to ever do such a thing.

As I awoke from a very fitful sleep, one built around feelings of never being able to "win"... meaning I cannot ever have everyone in my family content and reassured about any damn thing, I could tell this was going to be one helluva damn piss-poor day. If you wish an inkling as to why I feel this way, please read Monday's essay for a glimmer into my state of mind. Driving to work today was relatively uneventful except for that it was garbage collection day on one of the major roadways I take to the university. As I looked into the distance, I could see one of the very large garbage trucks (the kind with the "pinchers" on the front to lift up those huge commercial refuse containers). My first thought was to prepare to move to the left lane so as to avoid an accident. However, as is also common, I imagined what it would be like to stay in that lane and ram into the back of the garbage truck at 45 miles per hour. Now here is the crux of the matter.... under most circumstances, when I have that brief thought about what happens *if I do not avoid* the danger, I see the horror and carnage that would befall me. The horror of the accident, the damage to me, the vehicle, etc. But TODAY, I actually felt a momentary sense of calm and relief when I visualized the possible accident scene that could happen between my vehicle and the garbage truck.

It is that shocking feeling of relief that surprised the hell out of me. I think I can now far better understand how a person who is suicidal must feel. From a psychological science perspective, I know that suicidal patients often say that to kill themselves would put an end to their suffering... and therefore is very comforting to them. From this clinical perspective, I could understand their reasoning. However, to actually feel that sense of "relief" in simply envisioning my own demise was a completely unnerving experience. I now have a better grasp of what the suicidal patient may feel emotionally as they plan for their demise. It is rather frightening how strong that sense of relief can be for something as utterly horrid as suicide.

As I continued on my drive to work, I not only envisioned crashing into the back of the multi-ton garbage truck, but also the process of driving off the edge of an overpass I travel upon and having my vehicle and myself crash to the roadway 50 feet below at roughly 50-60 miles per hour. Oddly, in both situations, I could feel a sense of calm and a feeling of peacefulness just in the thought of either of those two scenarios. It is shocking.

Again, please do not worry. I am utterly against suicide from both a moral and a philosophical standpoint. There is absolutely no risk of my doing such a deed. I simply find it interesting and thought-provoking to see how given the right emotional triggers, the act of killing oneself can seem comforting. With my neuroscience background, I have understood that in theory, but now I understand it at a deeper level.

I still do not know how to ever regain my own sense of "self" when all it seems I am to the various women of my life is an indentured servant, a slave. Or worse, I am thought of as a pillar upon which can be hoisted every boulder of their own emotional turmoil and upheaval. I am but one man, and I am crumbling under the weight of their burdens that I am made to carry on my shoulders. I am akin to a camel with a weight load so heavy that the proverbial addition of a simple piece of straw would literally "break my back".


Monday, November 08, 2004

Between a Rock and a Hard Place and Another Rock

I am not sure what it is, but sometimes the females in my life do not seem to understand how much I try to keep them happy. I do not understand them worth a hill of beans and sometimes it makes me simply want to throw my hands into the air and give up.

As a professor, it is important for me to present my research at meetings, both regional and national. It is the only way I can stay current and in form for my job. Presenting these research findings involves travel. There is the rub. The various women in my life (wife, daughters, mother, mother-in-law) all seem bent on making my work as hard and as nerve wracking and as unenjoyable as possible. First, my wife is upset that she does not get to always travel with me to these damn conferences. Second, my daughters are unhappy if I leave home for any length of time... and an overnight trip is nearly the end of the world. My mother and mother-in-law both worry about whatever mode of transportation I happen to use, be it car, bus, train, or airplane.

To go to a conference used to be a pleasant time. It was a time of growth and learning for me and a time for a bit of a break from routine. Now the trips are simply torture and I have grown to despise them enormously. I do not know how I got myself into giving a talk at the conference I am supposed to attend this weekend, but I must have been awfully damn stupid to even consider going. My life has been hell for the last few days because of the reasons stated above and others from the women in my life.

Do I love them? Of course. But, what I do not understand is why their overwhelming emotions and needs and fears should have to dictate each and every action I take and why I should have to be treated this way. I am not asking for much, just simply to be given the chance to do MY JOB in the WAY I NEED TO DO IT. Why does every blasted thing have to go wrong and every female in my life become nearly histronic whenever a simple, two or three day trip comes up. Hell, its not like I have ever done them that all often.... usually two trips a year is my average. But, each and every single trip that has occurred related to my work has been a hardache and struggle and utterly, horribly, nasty and horrible.

It is unfair. It makes me angry and frustrated.

I think I have also figured out my answer about *if* I should go to deer camp this year.

I shall become more of an indentured servant and slave and never stray one iota from home again. I feel like an empty shell.


Sunday, November 07, 2004

Intermediate Steps of Time

I still fluctuate between being sad and being calm and resigned about the election. Today I am fortunately in the mood where I see it as something I should view outside of my own realm of reality. I will never meet the president, I will never have any direct impact on anything he does, and only to a limited extent will the crap that he does during the next four years impact me DIRECTLY. Of course, his actions will shape and develop the mood of the populace of our nation and world, but again, that is not anything I can ever hope to have affect on. So, to me, the election was simply a waste of my time, and as is often the case, politicians are fairly useless and rather suspect creatures again. My own difference in the world shall come from within myself and my impact shall be in my local/regional arena.

The first installment of the "comedic" novel, "The Grates of Rat" has been posted for those who may be interested. I have a significantly larger portion written, but there are a few kinks to be worked out prior to posting. I hope this first portion whets your appetite for more and that you may return to the continuing saga.

I hope that all is well with all of you, and that you may choose to leave a plethora of comments. I feel comment deprived and rather isolated as of late since my past several essays have had few if any comments.


Friday, November 05, 2004

All is Reasonably Well Again

I was truly feeling like hell after the election. Perhaps it is stupid of me to have felt this way, since my one small voice could not have affected change enough to have made much of a difference. I am still disappointed in Ohio and Florida, but that is simply the choice of their population. I truly think Kerry would have been able to steer us back into a far better position.... on the world front, on the national economic front, and also in terms of looking forward to a future of positive goals and aspirations for our country (such as increased funding for the arts, increased funding and support of all sciences, not just those that can be used militarily, and a goal for fostering creativity and discussion in all people).

My solution for getting out of the horrid mood worked well. I arrived at "The Pit" as promised (roughly 11:45) and got down to the business of defragmenting the hardrive of my brain and cleansing out the viruses with ample boilermakers (for those of you too young to know, a traditional boilermaker is a mug of beer and a shot of whiskey... as a person who embraces tradition, I consumed them in the traditional manner as well... drank down a few inches of the beer in the mug, getting adequate foam in my moustache and beard to necessitate wiping my mouth on my shirtsleeve and then dropping the whiskey filled shot-glass into the mug of beer before finishing the drink. My trusty pipe was at my side or gripped between my teeth the entire afternoon as well.

As I was starting my third boilermaker, the first of four of my students came to sit and talk with me. Of the four, three had read my invitation and the fourth simply happened to see me when he entered the establishment. I bought the first young fellow a beer and we started a long, beery discussion about politics and the disappointment we both felt. By the time I started my fourth boilermaker, two young ladies had arrived to join the discussion and I purchased each a diet cola (they were under 21) and we continued the discussion. By the time I had consumed the third and fourth boilermaker I had started to feel relaxed, and by the time the fourth fellow arrived, I had just received my sixth and final boilermaker and was feeling downright pleasant. This fourth fellow would have liked to have a beer, but because he was going to work in an hour (at the 7-11) he declined and had a Pepsi instead. Talk continued at a feverish and animated pace. Most of the discussion was still about politics, though each of us discussed our lives and the variances and similarities we felt. By 3:30 it was time to close up shop and I bid the students farewell and walked back to my office.

I quickly gave my research animals their afternoon injections (a vitamin milieu) and proceeded grade the multipage essay exams I had given to my advanced physiology students the day before. The students were happy with their scores as I tend to grade a bit more leniently after a session at "The Pit". When I finished, I went home and took a nap until dinner.

The medicinal use of the boilermakers did help immensely. That evening I no longer fussed and fumed about the sad turn of events and by the time I awoke Thursday morning, I had developed a resigned acceptance that the next four years will be much the same as the previous.... namely that my hopes and dreams and desires for the nation will not likely be addressed, but that I am still fully capable of guiding and promoting positive change in my own local environment. And this is what I shall continue to focus upon.


Wednesday, November 03, 2004

A Damn Awful Day Indeed

Although the election is still theoretically undecided, all the indicators suggest that the idiotic people (those that voted for Bush) in Ohio and Florida have given us FOUR more horrid years of George W. Bush. I cannot understand or fathom how any thinking person could select 'ole Georgie over John Kerry. It is a sad day, indeed.

To quell my frustration and my saddness, I have decided to park myself at "The Pit" across the street from campus (two doors down from Taco Bell) after I finish my classes today at 11:30. I shall spend the afternoon drowning my sorrows with beer (boilermakers actually). For any of my local student readers, please feel free to stop by and I'll buy you a beer if you are 21 or older or buy you a soft drink if you are younger. Just look for the furry-faced fellow with his pipe who is crying in his beer in the back of the building.

I am glad I brought my strongest, harshest pipe tobacco, Balkan Sobranie, with me today. It should help the alcohol to fragment the bad taste in my mouth from these elections. Here is an important quote I shall be contemplating as I befuddle my mind to try to erase the memory of the turn of events of this election:

"We must be the change we wish to see in the world."
Mahatma Gandhi


Tuesday, November 02, 2004

A Wish & A Dare

Today's post consists of the following wish:

It is my fervent hope that each and every one of you who is elligible will go and vote in this very important election. I am, of course, especially hopeful that each of you who prefers the Kerry/Edwards ticket will be especially adamant to get out and vote [grin]. Let us be able to have the start of a fresh, more intelligent, more caring, and more thoughtful administration.....

Please let John Kerry be elected president!

Today's post also consists of the following dare:

As I have stated in the past, I am a novel writing hobbiest. I found a wonderful site called NaNo.... the National Novel Writing Month and have joined. I am going to be posting my "novel" on a sub-blog to this very space. The working title of the novel is "The Grates of Rat" and you can find it by clicking here.


Monday, November 01, 2004

A Chocolate Hangover

I rarely eat chocolate in the form of candy bars, truffles, etc. I usually save my indulgence in chocolate for items I especially like such as cakes, pies, ice creams, hot chocolate drinks, chocolate flavored liquors, chocolate coffees, etc. However, with the advent of Halloween yesterday and the large plethora of chocolate-desiring crumb munchers lurking about, I decided to also eat chocolate candy, and yes.... I did just that. In order to keep a record of all of the candy I ate, I would put each wrapper into my pants pocket. At the end of the day I decided to count my consumption. Over the twenty four hour period of Halloween, I ate whatever candy I wished (please note that all candy bars are of the "FUN SIZE" variety and I selected only those candy bars I was interested in eating. Our household had many, many other candy bars of other names that I did not consume as I was not as fond of them). The following wrappers were pulled out of my pocket:

15 Kit Kat wrappers
14 Whoppers wrappers
11 Nestle Crunch Wrappers
10 Pay Day wrappers
9 Three Musketeer wrappers
6 Hershey Plain Chocoloate wrappers
6 Hershey Krackle Chocolate wrappers
3 Milky Way wrappers
2 Snicker wrappers
1 Hershey Smore wrapper

Please also note that I had one empty pouch of chocolate flavored pipe tobacco I decided to indulge in as well yesterday, finishing off the ounce I had purchased by late evening.

I am rather tired of chocolate this morning, and think I shall refrain from chocolate candy for quite a while again.