I eat a lot of junk food. Like, even with the anonymity of the Internet, I don’t wish to share now many shiny food wrappers are in my weekly garbage.
And it is compulsive. I’ve had more “last hurrahs” with food than smokers have “last cigarettes”.
But last night, it hit me, as I gazed at my bowl of chips, THIS STUFF WILL KILL ME.
And it hit me like a ton of bricks. So I know it won’t be easy, but I also don’t think it will be soon before I forget…that stuff is going to kill me if I don’t stop.
So jealous of YA writers because no matter what embarrassing Youtube video they’re caught watching, they can just cry “research!” and be done with it.
Corey’s excellent single father parenting nearly brings a tear to my eye, even when I’m equidistant from menstrual events.
When people treat doing laundry as if it is a chore.
You sort it. Like a kindergarten student.
It goes in a machine, and then into another machine.
And during this interlude, you may do whatever else you like.
You fold it (optional).