|[Jan. 16th, 2007|06:41 am]|
Despite probably being healthier, I'd feel like a burden. I'd have to work to plan what I eat and shop for the right food. Waiters and servers would cringe when I walk into their restaurants because I'm picky as hell about what goes in my meal. My family would write me off as weird and a pain in the ass because I'll no longer eat "their" food. I'd also be very anal about jackets and purses-- no more leather coats, I'd wear pleather shoes, and I'd toss out that heavy jacket with the fox fur trim on the hood.|
And no more bison or turkey jerky. My idea of a rushed half-assed lunch is chiefly raw vegetables pulled from the fridge.
Yeah, I can't pull it off. Frankly, I just like the taste of meat too much to quit.