Half of it, one finger of the two, has been sat, open, on a shelf in my room for the past year + change. And noow I'm eating it.
I was going to get sugar earlier, taking a short break to nip to the local newsagents, have a smoke and get some thing sugary, but no dice. I remembered (fortunately before setting off) that the shop had changed hours and now closed just before I would be able to get there. My need for sugar has been increasing, the need to replenish the energy levels that all of this hypercaffeinated Javan brew has leeched from me in the form of nervous twitches. But there's nothing in the house unless I want to go back to eating it raw from the bag, and living with parents precludes that.
So I'm eating the other half of this chocolate bar. It's not bad, even if it does taste not a little of deoderant fallout and dust. But it's not gone white and it doesn't look like anything but chocolate. Which is good enough for me.
On a random thought: Go out and find the Doom Patrol collections if you haven't yet. They are turbochargers for your brain.