Reacting to a late night chocolate craving, I remembered I had another large tin of Quality Street in the car, which I bought a week ago under the feeble guise of a potential gift for an as yet to be decided deserving friend. I quickly dressed and ran out to the car, on my way stopping to lob a bag of rubbish in a big industrial bin. Unfortunately my bunch house keys caught on the bag handles mid-lob and followed the bag in to the bin. I fumbled around in the dark for 5 minutes up to my elbows in trash before remembering there was a torch in my car. Using that, I finally spied the keys at the bottom of the huge bin and the only way I could reach down them way to stand on a chair someone had left there, balance my abdomen on the edge of the bin and lean into it, reaching down. Unfortunately I didn’t balance very well and I fell in. I grabbed the keys, which were conveniently sitting nicely on a bed of fetid bread, and used the same abdominal maneuver in reverse to get out of the bin. I am now triumphantly stuffing my face with green triangles and toffee fingers wondering if this is normal behaviour for someone who's supposed to be on a diet.