On Things I Must Give Up
Even my girlfriend doesn’t eat bacon.
I mean, every week a book hits the New York Times Best Seller’s listy-list exclaiming the evils of bacon.
But I don’t care. Yes, I know my heart clogs a little more with each bite I take but damn.
Bacon is just so scary good.
I try to offset this potentially deadly addition by only buying organic oranges and cucumbers. And to add to that, running long-distances and when I clear enough space in the living room, yoga.
There is indeed a high probability that my seven-mile runs might start turning into 3.5-mile runs because bacon keeps sneaking its way into my burgers and the side of my pancakes.
I draw the line at bacon bits. Those will totally fuck up a salad. The cheese is enough.
My girlfriend shot looks of disappointment at my plate of bacon at breakfast next to my pineapple slices when we were in Mexico.
We’re a turkey bacon only home.
I ate every last bite in Ixtapa, MEX too but I know that the swine needs to go.
It could potentially ruin my life.
More and more I am surrounded by criticism when I indulge.
From books, to friends that are health coaches, to my lovely girlfriend, to my little sister who used to never even drink water who has now lost 22 pounds at Gold’s Gym.
I am tired of the judgey eyes.
Bacon is definitely a must to give up. For mainly that reason.
And it will improve my cholesterol score like my credit score.