Adam Dalva| Longreads | April 29, 2026 | 2,084 words (9 minutes) This essay, from Steak Zine, is copublished with Cake Zine. Every Sunday evening, I open the fridge, reach into the vegetable crisper, grab a pen, screw in a needle, pinch my stomach, and inject Ozempic. It hurts a bit, but I’ve gotten used to it. Twenty-five pounds down, 20 to go.