For the first four weeks I didn't have a drink of alcohol. In the four weeks since, I have only had six beers. There's a 12 pack in the cooler right now, and I don't even want one. Much.
I've fought through the phase where my body was craving sugars (strangely, I got very Southern during this phase, grabbing sweet tea and Moon Pies on the way home from work almost every night). I've replaced my usual Doritos, burrito or grilled cheese dinners with salads, nuts, and fruits, and I've been hitting the gym pretty hard the last few weeks.
But all for naught, because the freaking Girl Scouts are out in force everywhere I go, pushing their crack cookies, and they don't care about my suffering, my pain, how hard it's been or how weak I am right now, they only care about the almighty dollar...and probably a merit badge of some sort...and bunnies.
Your Tiny Hand Is Frozen
4 hours ago