chocolicious torte

Picture this... it's 5 in the morning, and I can't fall back asleep because I keep thinking about... the chocolate cake in the kitchen.  I picked up the said cake at the store a few days ago to take to my dad.  He loves chocolate cake.  He loves pecans.  *Note:  he is from Texas, so make sure, as you read this, you pronounce pecan the correct Texan way.  Enter the chocolate caramel pecan torte.  I had it home only 2 hours before I started thinking about it.  Convinced it was reasonable, I took a bite directly out of the edge of it.  The hole kept getting bigger.  I rationalized I would explain to my dear ol' dad that I simply cut a piece out for my husband.  Well, two pieces.  I put it in the freezer.  This would stop me from eating any more... Or cause me to start chiseling instead of just sampling. 
                             

Life is full of chocolate cake.   You know you shouldn't, but you just can't help yourself.  I try to take the high road in life.  Pay your taxes.  Vote.  Love thy neighbor.  Eat your vegetables.  Kiss your children.  Clearly humans are not programmed to have perfect discipline.  Otherwise there wouldn't be so much chocolate cake in the world.

Then there's the school of thought that begins with "you only live once."  My dad lives by this.  He wants to enjoy life.  He makes me promise that if he ever embarks on a fatal illness, to just put a gun to his head.  (I did mention he's a Texan, right?)  So clearly he would have loved this chocolate cake.  Oops.

So do you do all the right things, take care of yourself, and live a lengthy safe life?  Or do you throw caution to the wind and live every day like it's your last, giving no thought to the future.  Should I just banish the notion that '...a moment on the lips, forever on the hips...'

Maybe I'll take a jog later.  For now, I need to find a fork.