First I walk into work to find this:

Then we go to lunch at Red Robin. My protein burger was good. The endless basket of fries looked great, steak fries, nice and potato-ey, sprinkled with savory salt and pepper, fried to a golden brown hue. The burger was good enough.
Later I walk into the hall and the smell of popcorn imbues my every olfactory sensor. That's just great. Who's trying to get me to steer off the path to dietary righteousness.
While the crown doesn't make the King, the food makes me so i must resist. Every piece of cheat I eat only cheats me of the minutes I've gotten up in the morning, and cheats everyone who's pulling for me to do well. Esp John and Birdie, which really helps keep me on track cuz if nothing else I wanna do well for them since they too are pouring in all they've got into my success.
word.
UPDATE: There was a dude eating poundcake when sitting in traffic on the way to the bay bridge. WTF????!!?!
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