October 26
Then there are the passive excuses; the “devil made me do it” family of excuses. “Then the pizza came in” one of my clients recently said to explain a particularly horrific food night. “What, by itself?,” I asked, obnoxiously. Here is something I know about myself: if I don’t like it, I wouldn’t eat it. If I knew you were ordering sushi, I would order something else for myself. I would find another solution. I would’t eat it anyway. Or liver. Or anchovies.
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