Day One of my vow not to eat pastries: miserable failure.
Pastries eaten: 3.
Number of backs that feel better after eating said pastries, despite this being the convincing reason for such indulgence: 0
Must get back to remedy-producing drawing-board.
Number of smiles produced in past 10 minutes by smelling my yellow roses: 2
Must peace-keeping flowers still smell so sweet? Would prefer holding valiant passionate grudge instead of having insides turned to girly mush by oldest trick in the book.
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