Pizza and Direction

It's one thing to live with an entire family of people who eat like you do, but when you're out on your own... it can get easier to "cheat". Especially when "dirt poor" is the income bracket above you.

I've been really good. I mean, really good, and really strict, for a really long time. Like, years.

But lately, as I've been working through stuff, the cravings for the good ol' comfort food come back, and there's no allergen free haven to turn to in my time of gastric need.

So, tonight... I decided that I've had it.

I ate a slice of pizza.

I think it was the best thing I've ever eaten.

And you know what?

...I feel perfectly fine.

Which is ironic, considering that I often hurt quite a bit when I'm being good and strict and staying off of "bad" foods.

Next item of death?

Cheeseburger.

Oh yeah, baby. ;)

(Either that or cheesecake.)

(...can you tell I miss cheese?)

(...and bread?)

Anyway, I've heard this song on the radio a few times now, and I really like it. I resonate with the lyrics.
*Christian Rock Alert*

Now... I'm off to go make myself a cup of coffee and do the dishes.

Bring it on, colon. I hate you, too.