I've rationalized that living in a fourth-floor walk-up negates a gym membership, chocolate cake for dinner is really just lunch's dessert, and that dying is inevitable when I bum a late-night cigarette. Fortunately, I'm not alone. Tina Fey told Harper's Bazaar she'd like to work out but doesn't have time, and, besides, it's not like it's going to make her immortal. She said:
You will still die . . . I'll do grave yoga. Someone can come and stretch me in my grave.
What's your excuse to indulge?