I’ve had two coffees today and I’m not ashamed. Sometimes I even have three.
Today was a good day.
The caffeine flowing through my veins powers my legs down Yonge Street as my calves tighten – good thing I’m on magnesium – and my spine bends in response to the weight of my cross-body bag stuffed with supplies.
I drink coffee to wake up in the morning, to feel the gentle buzz of electricity that fuels the writing of this post and pours enthusiasm for life into my cup
I have oreo cookies (gluten-free, but that’s just me) with 13 g of sugar a pop that makes my blood sugar soar like a hot-air balloon only to crash a few hours later. And I don’t care. Because I love sugar. Sometimes.
I drink coffee, I eat sugar, and I put fashion over ergonomics sometimes.
I breathe in city air and forget to rinse my fruits and vegetables.
I sometimes have late nights and early mornings, which I make up for
So I may not be Gwyneth Paltrow, who would rather feed her kids crack than hot dogs, or even this guy, but I know some sh..tuff. And I’m on my own journey, just like you.
So If you want to count my coffees and calories, instead of looking inwards, I’m probably not the doctor for you.
But if you want to walk this path beside me, you’re more than welcome.
We can even stop for coffee.