DRIVEN TO POPCORN AGAIN

                                                DRIVEN  TO  P0PC0RN AGAIN!

I can tell that I am stressed when
I find myself being forced 
by my angst to dive
into a mound of fresh,
hot, butterey popcorn.
The crazier my day gets, the less
picky I become about its origin or flavor.
At my most desparate, I sentence myself
to the easily-burned, taste-free,
microwavable variety.  (I say
taste-free; those of us who eat it know
that if it becomes burned, it does indeed,
regretably,acquire a taste all its own!)
I can't keep myself from this inexplicable
method of self-medication.  It is
innocent enough--the worst it can do
is make me fatter. In the greater scheme
of life, that is not so bad. But to declare
oneself powerless over something
as simple as popcorn, is
embarassingl