A four-letter word for reason.
But I’m going on one.
You can only be so vain when you’ve had a stroke.
I’ve had two schools of thought on this.
I could have more strokes. My body could just decide to give up and poop out.
Do I really want my LAST MEAL to be lettuce?
What if I live twenty more years? Thirty? Fifty?
At what point so I stop letting myself give in to every urge, every moment I have it?
Since I can’t exercise the way I used to, I only have diet I can control.
I’m all for you loving your body whatever it’s size or shape.
But I can’t feel proud anymore.
I know I should be trying harder.
It’s a really good thing I like celery.