Ah, my former life. A cornucopia of grease, salt, and indigestion, smothered in frosting and deep-fried in doughy gluten. I look back and feel - shall I say it - almost giddy about my prior eating habits. Giddy that I actually survived and lived to tell this tale. By all accounts, I've committed (and recommitted) every single one of the seven deadly sins. However, the sin I held closest to my remarkable bosom was GLUTTONY. Pure and unadulterated. Jabba the Hutt kind, with all the characteristics attendant to it. Drooling, burping, temporary choking on an extra large piece of steak, having one's tongue encircle the entire mouth searching for the remaining bits, etc. And, to my surprise, there actually are six glorious ways to commit this sin:
Praepropere – eating too soon
Laute – eating too expensively
Nimis – eating too much
Ardenter – eating too eagerly
Studiose – eating too daintily
Forente – eating wildly
I've certainly never eaten too "daintily," and I'm unsure what eating "wildly" entails, but I suspect I indulged in this vice at least once or twice in my twenties. How many have you committed?
But, alas, those carefree (and metabolized) days are gone. I am left wondering whether those youthful excesses were worth the price of being overweight and having to don a pair fatty pants. I think it's time to commit a new sin - the sin of self-love. The kind where I put myself at the front of the line and make it about me - and my health. Sin is good, don't get me wrong, but Slim is better.
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