When I was living in a dorm last year, I would order a pizza just to get people on my floor to think I was cool. I was averaging four pies a week at one point. It was empowering to be the one buying the pizzas, but after a while guys came to expect it—even dudes I’d never met. Then I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. I was out of control. Pizza is a double-edged sword; even if you enjoy eating it, sometimes it’s just not worth the consequences.