"I am the master of my soul," he whispered while picking out a bag of kale.
"Day one, huh?" Dave smirked. "You look like you’re trying to diffuse a bomb.""I'm fine," Elias snapped, his voice an octave higher than usual. Day 1 of No Nut November
The morning was a breeze. Elias felt like a Spartan. He made a protein shake, hit the gym with a ferocity he hadn't felt in months, and deleted certain "incognito" bookmarks with the flair of a man burning his bridges. He walked through the grocery store with his head held high, convinced that within 24 hours he would be able to levitate or at least solve complex equations in his head. "I am the master of my soul," he
For most, it was a meme. For Elias, it was a personal exorcism of bad habits. The morning was a breeze
This was the danger zone. The sun was down, the house was quiet, and the blue light of the monitor beckoned. This was when the habit usually took hold—the mindless ritual of boredom.
He stood up so fast his chair hit the wall. He grabbed a book—a dry, technical manual on diesel engine repair—and began reading it out loud. He did forty pushups. He drank a glass of ice water so cold it gave him a headache.