So last night on my way home from work I was HUNGRY. I mean. HONGRAY.

And It was Stephen King level foggy. And I was grumpy because my boss cheesed me off.

And I wanted a pizza more than anything ever. I could taste it. It was beckoning to me.

BUT. I didn't.

I reasoned, if I had pizza, I could not have an ice cream (skinny cow) after dinner.

And as always, Ice Cream wins.

WELL DONE Hanna!

Sometimes it's hard, and sometimes bosses and buttheads, and still you choose not to eat.