I just found the following online and copied and pasted it. It's kind of how I feel right now. This peanut butter thing is killing me. I haven't caved yet, though. There are something like 33 days left...

Ode to Peanut Butter
Oh Peanut Butter,
How I love thee.
Your creamy texture,
your salty taste.
I crave you all day,
I can taste you in my dreams.
Each bite is a sweet torture,
one flavorful burst after another.
As the toast dwindles away,
I bite it slowly, to savor.
Rather than inhale,
I treat it as an art.
It appears on crackers, toast,
and half sandwiches for the road.
Whether treated with a drop of honey,
or simply swiped from the jar.
My devotion to this creamy creation
has undoubtedly gone too far.
As I hoard jars in closets and cabinets,
I fear the day when I run out of places to put them.
Every morning I long for it's rich texture,
and I satisfy cravings with a bold daytime dip.
I believe I shall never tire of peanut butter,
no matter how many mornings I eat it.
It will always tempt my appetite
and quench my palate.
So until I become large and round,
this treat I will continue to suck down.
Until then, my delectable treat,
My peanut butter I shall always eat.
Oh, peanut butter how I love thee.
You will certainly be the death of me.