PASTA

Okay. Pasta will be what kills me. Today in treatment was like a pack your own lunch. And I thought I could handle pasta. And I ate it. But holy anxiety. Growing up a gymnast pretty much puts certain foods off limits. Especially high carb items. In early high school, my friends and I would go out for pasta after practice as a form of rebellion. Looking back it wasn't all that rebellious. But it sure felt like it. So, now there is pasta in me and I'm not practicing tonight. Which may be a good thing considering they could probably see the pasta in me. I just. Want. To. Work. Out. But I am so freaking tired. 

I don't know what to do. Do I work out? Do I not? Do I ever eat pasta again? 

Sometimes the aftermath is the worst part. 

Stay Sateong

xo Aria