Weekends or any kind of free day is like my paycheck in my bank account; it's suddenly there and I struggle with what to do with it. 

I think of other people like my siblings and I know that for the most part, their decisions for the day are determined largely by their responsibilities as parents. I only have to be responsible for myself and there lies the conundrum- what to do with oneself? Obviously, I'm good with the 'I take care of myself' bit; I like to believe I have a good grip on my health- it could be better, but there's the part of enjoying life. I always cast the story of my dad's health as a cautionary-tale but when I relieve the memories of family weekends filled with great food and contentment, I pull myself back from thinking that a piece of perfectly cooked pork-belly will end up killing me.

 It will or it may not, but one thing I will never do is to live in fear of it.

But no pork belly today, sadly.