ONE - It lay in my unopened drawer, more than a month after I put it there. It signalled (to whomever might have been interested - probably only me -) that I am, in fact, capable of restraint. As long as I hide the chocolate.
TWO - I noticed it [having opened my drawer at 8.17am to look for a paper clip] for the first time for a couple of weeks. The sight of it gave me hope.
THREE - At 3.34pm, when drinking a cup of coffee, I chose to eat it.
FOUR - Yum.
FIVE - My emergency KitKat transformed scoff into a transitive verb.
SIX - Without it, I would have scoffed today. I scoff.
SEVEN - The objectification and consumption of a KitKat saved me from scoffing. An unkind thing to do.
EIGHT - It also reminded me of the other use for KitKats, and the reason I had a spare, emergency KitKat in the first place: their suitability for use as piano keys.