Most of the time, when we are craving carbs or alcohol or a puff of fine weed, we stop at the fun part, the ideal buzz when everything is just right. Our fantasies get stuck on the feeling of grand satisfaction that we are pursuing through the item of our choice. Someone told me once to follow the fantasy through … to the next morning, when I feel like hell from the shots of vodka I was downing, or like a hippopotamus from the five colorful cupcakes I shoved in my mouth, or like I just want to hide in bed forever because the self-disgust is overwhelming. Make sure to go there. To the consequence. Before you let the anticipation of the buzz fool you.