So the Italian pastries were a no-go. I don't mind too much, since in the presence of such delights, I cannot be stopped. Instead, my bro brought a cheesecake. It was, in fact, delectable. But as expected, I woke up wishing I hadn't eaten it. That's partly because the more I eat dessert now, the more I'll want dessert later and also partly because -- as usual -- the sugar in it sucked the life out of me.
Without fail, if I eat a lot of sugar before bed, I wake up a little less than happy. A little lethargic. A little anxious, sometimes, if not a little depressed. It's temporary, of course (it passes when it passes, if you know what I mean). And in my opinion, it's so not worth it. Not in the least.
But don't get me wrong. I don't expect to feel 100%, a hundred percent of the time (that's impossible). And contrary to semi-popular belief among people I know, I'm also not trying to live forever or find the fountain of youth (I totally embrace the aging process, in fact! I hope for silver hair someday.). What I'm trying to do is learn what life is like without indulging on food that I really don't believe our bodies were designed to process anyway. And the goal, really, is to free me from the manufactured need for things like brownies, which do nothing for my body but very temporarily make my tastebuds excited, make me fat and make me feel like crap.
And sidenote: my house smells like meatballs. I'm stoked for Christmas dinner. And today, I'll go without dessert.