Good: 2, Evil: 2

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Today has been a challenging day for me so far, willpower-wise.  Lunchtime will be that way, I suppose.  Many of my different selves were warring with each other.  The first battle was while standing in line at Piccadilly. (It is Piccadilly Tuesday, for the thus uninformed.) They were serving a golden-fried butterfly filleted chicken breast with a light and lovely-looking mushroom sauce.  Right away, I think to myself, Mmmm...that looks so good. Compassionate Me pipes up right away: "No! No meat! You're here to get a veggie plate and nothing else!" Still-present Callous Me rebuffs: "Don't listen! That chicken looks delicious! Boy, you sure picked a dumb time of your life to be a vegetarian! Couldn't you have waited until you were like, 80, or something?"
Compassionate Me: "No! You're doing the right thing! Those chickens were certainly factory farmed! Poor things! And imagine how grossed out you'll be if you come across a vein or a tendon while you're eating!"
Callous Me: "Eh, shut up. Chickens don't have feelings, really. Besides, no one will see you, and no one has to know...."
Compassionate Me: "Do I have to remind you of the Meet Your Meat video again? How many times do you need to see chickens being de-beaked or violently thrown across a farmyard for you to get this through your head?"
Well, at the mention of the video, I caved.  Or rather, I didn't cave.  Score 1 for Compassionate Me. I had a veggie plate, just like I had originally intended.
The next battle was of Frugal Me vs. Extravagant Me.  I've been wanting a bottle of black nail polish since last Thursday (I know, an eternity, right?), and I had been continually having to remind myself that I don't need it.  I've got to be very economical now that I'm going back to school; I should only be buying the things I really need.  But before I can swing out of the restaurant, Extravagant Me has fully taken charge, and is marching me down to Trade Secret for a bottle of OPI Black Onyx. She has her hand tightly over Frugal Me's mouth - who can be heard mumbling weakly.  Frugal Me is such a weakling, by the way. She's gonna have to go to an assertiveness training class if I'm ever going to survive my Therapeutic Massage program.  Well, at the register, the deed having been done, the cashier complements my ring, and asks me if I got it at the new store in the mall - Charming Charlie. When I tell her no, she informs me that it is the most amazing accessory store. My pulse quickens, and I feel Frugal Me starting to faint. And that's when Fat Girl Me stepped in: she decided that Frugal Me would feel much better if she ate a brownie.  And she was mostly right.  Fat Girl Me really enjoyed that unnecessary brownie from the Great American Cookie Company.  Score 0 for Skinny Girl Me.
On the way back from said ruinous brownie, Frugal Me was just getting her strength back when Extravagant Me walked past the aforementioned Charming Charlie.  This time, as I passed the windows gleaming with rack after rack of brightly colored baubly necklaces, chunky bracelets, huge fake rings, and leathery purses, Extravagant Me and I were holding each other and weeping. "Just one little peep," we promised each other.  I practically ran over to a display of brown-ish sparkly rings.  I was breathless.  Frugal Me, clearly on a sugar high from the brownie, shouted, "OUT!!!! OUT OF THIS STORE!!! NOW!!!!" Fine, Fine.  So I put it back, and walked sheepishly with my head down.  I may need to take an extra job just for accessories money, now.  Thanks alot, MALL.
So if you lost count, here's the final score:
Compassionate Me: 1                                         Callous Me: 0
Frugal Me: 1                                                       Extravagant Me: 1
Skinny Girl Me: 0                                                Fat Girl Me: 1