Beat Poetess

kudzujulep:

“Sazerac. Nice touch.”

tomyhusband:

Something to remember the next time you fuck up.

Look, I get it. Maybe you indulged in a little shrimp-and-alligator sausage cheesecake at Jacques-Imo’s, or caved and bought a double scoop of Mexican hot chocolate ice cream at the Creole Creamery (I know, that sinus-clearing cayenne aftertaste is divine), or maybe you just had a night of drunken rowdiness and followed it up the next morning with a hearty hangover cure at Slim Goody’s diner. 

It’s the little things that start the skid. Next thing you knew you were saying, I could exercise, but it’s hot as hell out there and I’d much rather stay in and watch the latest episode of Glee, a show I don’t even like. Mike spent all day making some really extravagant dish, and you had to hungrily wolf down a hefty portion, you know, to be polite and all. The next day you were too lazy to make dinner, so you opted for crawfish nachos slathered in cheese and sour cream from Juan’s Flying Burrito. And why not? you rationalized. I’m a New Orleanian now. So I’m a little inactive and a little more voluptuous. I work hard all day sitting on my ass. I just don’t have time to be healthy. Etc., etc.

Girl, end this malaise right now, because as your former self I am telling you: when you’re taking care of yourself you are sharper, happier, slimmer, hotter, and just generally more appreciative of the joy in any given moment. You know how little kids have this irrepressible energy, how they just can’t wait to get up in the morning? That’s what it’s like when you’re following a vaguely paleo diet, drinking tons of water, taking supplements, and exercising as often as you can. EVERYTHING IS BETTER THEN. Trust me.

Love,

Your Former Self

scribnerbooks:

Is there a Tumblr for writers and their dogs? There should be.