Sugar, we’re going down swinging.

Last Friday at 11:30pm the night of my 27th birthday I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor, fridge door wide open, fork in hand, eating the massive gluten-free birthday cake my boyfriend surprised me with earlier that day while contemplating if I should eat one of the gluten-free whoopie pies or all four of the gluten-free cake pops still in the fridge. So why was I on my kitchen floor eating cake out of the fridge instead of cutting a slice and eating it at a table like a normal adult? Guilt.

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