While cleaning up my kitchen from a family Easter party, the leftovers were talking to me. Specifically, a delicious cake in the shape of an Easter Egg that a guest had brought from a local eatery called Wagshal’s. I couldn’t resist and as I stood there with a fork in hand pushing away the icing and eating only the cake, I knew that this was not a good thing to be doing. But I didn’t care.
I was feeling stressed and I wanted immediate relief. And I got it. After about four or five bites, I got mad at myself … Read More
