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Life, Parisa Pichitmarn, Published on 09/10/2015
» As a person who follows the self-sprinkled mantra of I-will-eat-whatever-the-hell-I-want, I have never been one to obsess over what I put into my mouth. If I want a cookie at midnight, with a side of chips, I am going to go stuff my face -- sans any guilt or calorie-counting. My heaven-sent gift of rapid-fire digestion is a side effect of being diagnosed with hyperthyroidism -- something that has unfortunately been slowing down since I have plummeted deeper into adulthood.