To contextualise this column, perhaps you should be aware that I'm writing while dressed in a rabbit costume. As I write, I'm picking away at a large chocolate egg.
I cringe to tell you that it's approximately 8am, and yes, I'm breakfasting on chocolate. Does its status as "milk chocolate" mitigate my case? Hmm.
Regardless, from today I will make a conscious effort to avoid - nay, to "regulate" - my intake of confectionery.
In a desperate attempt to preserve my Easter stash, initially the treats were hidden in a drawer. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Unfortunately, my mind's eye wouldn't shift from the image of those foil-wrapped temptations, and - as already mentioned - they won't last until lunchtime. Why are we so devoted to taste sensations?
These days, chocolate isn't rare, it's not particularly expensive, and it's not even "good" for us. Yet, similarly to many other "treat" foods, so many of us succumb to it helplessly, and like Labradors we indulge beyond fullness.
It seems chocolate, among other confectionery, is perceived more as a pleasure than as a food-source. Perhaps its status is on a par - indulgence-wise - with beauty treatments, fine wine, and window-shopping. For survival, it's certainly not essential. For sanity? Possibly.
But just because something's not needed for survival, it doesn't mean it's not needed at all. Enjoyment of the senses shouldn't be underrated: "Nothing can cure the soul but the senses." (Thanks, Oscar Wilde).
There's an anecdote about John Keats which epitomises this poetic (over)interest in, particularly, taste sensation.
Apparently, in an uncontrollable quest for physical feeling (and in a relatively drunken state, no doubt) Keats covered his tongue and throat, as far as he could reach, with cayenne pepper. He did this in order to enjoy the " ... delicious coolness of claret in all its glory." Although this is an extreme method of enhancing taste-satisfaction, this whole idea of "pain" pre-taste-satisfaction/semi-purgatory behaviour is not uncommon when it comes to sweet indulgences.
In an attempt to justify consumption of these unnecessary goodies, people often feel the need to first work out, diet, or break up with their boyfriend. Thus, the naughtiness of eating chocolate is balanced by the goodness or - in the case of relationship break-up - simply the qualification of the prior activity.
To get back to the topic of Easter ... Does Lent - if one subscribes to Lent - enable one to devour a pile of chocolate eggs guiltlessly on Sunday morning?
If so, fair enough; 40 days is a long time. What are we really seeking when we stuff our gob with sugary fixes? Are we on an uncontrollable quest for physical feeling?
If that's the case, surely it'd be better to just do something more blatantly physical. Ah, but it's so much easier to just sit down and eat chocolate! It's so much easier to reach for the cayenne pepper ...
It's good to keep in mind that chocolate's not the only excitement of Easter time. For most of the working population (including students) the holiday is sweeter than the eggs and bunnies. For those of you who don't get a break, well, you should flaunt the claim that you're simply too necessary to spare.
Ah, a quick glance at the word-count reveals my perfect timing; I've just finished my Easter egg. The time is 9.14am. Oh, I'm so ashamed of myself, I can't even think of a suitable conclusion. Let's blame the bunny suit. Happy Easter to you.
• Katie Kenny studies English at the University of Otago.
