No sweatpants, obviously.

I woke up this morning, got out of bed, made my coffee, sat in my favorite chair*.

Same as the last twenty days. Groundhog Day**.

Except the only way I know it’s not Groundhog Day is that everyday, I am a little bit different.

You know, ever so slightly more disheveled. 

So I sat in my favorite chair, I looked in the distance, with a profound, worldly expression on my face, imagine The Lion King overlooking the savanna, solemn music and all, and I thought : 

DUDE, DO YOU REMEMBER RESTAURANTS? HOW AWESOME THEY WERE? YEAH!!!

When will come the blessed day were I’ll be able to eat an oyster again? 

Yes, my thoughts and my cravings are now officially all over the map.

I mean, this week was the week where I was supposed to get my shit together. 

I had a plan [name code : Stop Eating Carbs] a goal [name code : Not To Become a Feral Animal] and, I am sorry to report, I failed.

Like right now I am writing to you from my bed, drinking my third coffee under a hoodie like I’m Drake or something and I am t…