I am a twenty-seven year old whining like an eight year old. This I have realized: I do not like eating fruits. Too messy. Too sweet. Too sour. I know I should be eatinb more (or any), but lately I haven't been doing too much of what I should do. I'm very strong on consistency.

At the end of this past week, my body, for the first time, told me 'no'. No, you cannot have fries daily. No, you cannot have two or more beers daily. No, wings or a stir fry are not better alternatives to your burger and fries. No, you do not need two slices of pizza at 12am at night after eating plates of sausage, sauerkraut and pretzels.

On Sunday, I argued with myself over items on a menu for 15 minutes. My eyes wanted wings or a burger and fries. My tastebuds were campaigning with them. My stomach wouldn't have any of it. It joined forces with my mind. I was given a look in to my future 20 minutes from then of how I was going to feel if I went ahead with wings or a burger. It didn't not look or feel good. Suddenly the salad was polling strong.

Today, I grabbed ingredients for juicing. This time, I'm still eating food, but the juices will be my fruit serving and extra vegetable servings. Unlike last week, I don't immediately hate myself after a meal now.