Cherry pie is my favorite!

Pie, I mean. It's my favorite pie. It's not my favorite song, exactly, although it is a good one, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't get stuck in my head whenever I eat cherry pie.

It's definitely my favorite pie, though. I like it a lot.

But the thing about pie is, it's not the most convenient dessert for single girls who have no roommates. (Note to stalkers: No roommates, but lots of GUNS!!)

Sometimes I'll have a hankering for cherry pie like really late at night, and so I'll drive over to Vons and get one of those big old family-size cherry pies — because that's pretty much the only size they have — and a carton of vanilla ice cream (à la mode!) and go stand in the checkout line wondering whether the cashier thinks I'm bulimic. Then I'll go home and put the pie in the oven, and fart around for about 55 to 60 minutes while it bakes and 30 minutes more while it cools, and then, after all that, I finally get to eat a slice of the cherry pie (à la mode!) that I've been craving. And it's super tasty, and I'm really happy — until I remember that I have approximately seven-eighths of a cherry pie leftover.

That's a lot of cherry pie.

Now, I don't want to waste my money, and I don't want to throw away perfectly good food, which means I have no other choice: I must eat the entire thing all at once and then go in the bathroom and puke it all up.

Ha ha! Just kidding! Totally not what I do!

What I do is, I cover the pie with some aluminum foil and put it in the fridge. Then, for the next seven days, I eat pie when I get home from working at my sedentary desk job. At midnight.

By the end of the week, I've got the biggest potbelly you've ever seen. It's not a very good look for me.

Which is why I'm really excited that somebody finally made a smaller cherry pie! Now I only have about half the amount of cherry pie to eat, which means I'll only acquire half the amount of potbelly! Best invention ever.