Chocolate in the bathtub.
Don't knock it until you've tried it.
I realize that I am likely revealing too much about myself on the ever-precarious interwebs by admitting to such a lackadaisical, indulgent practice, and more importantly, a private one that occurs in the sanctity of one's bathroom. I realize it is also rather embarassing and self-indulgent. But I feel that way about every blog entry I publish. I don't really know why I do it, but I feel compelled to prattle on about (somewhat pointless) things. I am the embodiment of a dissonant duality--the private person versus the blathering, verbose, wandering writer.
But back to chocolate in the bathtub! Why yes, good sir or madam, it is an ideal situation. Unless, of course, you happen to drop your chocolate into the bathtub, creating all sorts of trouble for you and your bathing self. Do you try to fish it out with the loofah? Do you just let it melt and thank the heavens that no one is watching your embarrassing and unfortunate predicament (that you know of)? And then proceed to dump upwards of several oversized chocolate bars so that you are a big, goopy, dark, melty...delicious...rich... (*ahem*) mess whilst simultaneously fulfilling your most morbid and magical dreams all at once, in the sanctity of the unsuspecting porcelain cistern?
Is it really that unfortunate of a situation? I can think of much worse ideas than taking a chocolate bath. Many of them. (I'm sure you can, too. Here, I will think of one for you: eating a bowlful of staples. That is a much worse idea.) Yes, before judging my practices, I encourage you to again refer to the above statement--the part where I tell you not to knock it until you've tried it.
Blathering Writer: 1, Private Person: 0.
