Relapse, recap.

Overindulgence is indeed a sin. But morely so, playing this game of push-and-pull. There's this weird sense of guilt, like I'm committing a crime.
It's just sort of taboo and strange - unless you're Japanese? Lol.
Raw eggs, raw beef, raw fish, raw chicken? How very barbaric of me.
Honest, there's never been a time where I've questioned myself as much as this.
When I first delved into the world of culinary arts, everything was exciting and new, but I was a picky and brutal critic.
When the first dish arrived, I welcomed it with open arms, forever there will remain a spot in my stomach dedicated to such a delight.
The second and third - I would say, were spur-of-the-moment, impatient choices. Ones that resulted in either a burnt tongue, or an upset stomach.
And lastly, the fourth. Something that I would have never considered. Ever.
There's just some sort of magnetism that attracts me to it. I mean, it's not as if someone has stuck a fork into my soul, and a magnet on the edge of the table so I lurch forward towards it.
The steps are slow, and I'm carefully analyzing whether or not to even take the first bite. I'm being observant (or ignorant).

On another note, they discontinued the fishy crackers at that one place in Causeway Bay ):
Apparently, they felt that the custard filling was not a hot buy, so they changed it to red bean. Boo.
I'd much rather they only make the custard one, and discontinue everything else. Hrmph.

Sometimes I think I just need to stop and breathe.

In.
Out.