baking with laser-like focus and mad skill in a kick-ass black outfit
Oy I can be whiny. And not in a charming or endearing way.
I had been chronicling the ups and downs of my 10-day cleanse (mostly downs), when it occurred to me that the main reason I don’t really ever feel like writing about it is because I’m doing a lot of complaining and navel gazing. Which is fine in my own head, but completely useless out in the world.
I originally started this post with “can I quit now?” Day three was exhausting.
I realized today, that when out of my element, I tend to lean heavily on what I know. That makes sense – when traveling, routine is key to maintaining sanity and things like brushing teeth, having a cup of tea, reading before bed can seem like lifesavers. So maybe it’s not surprising that a dramatic shift in diet would cause a similar flight to things known.
What can you really say about the first day of something like a cleanse? It sucks, to be sure. I am cranky, to be sure. But not in the ways that I would have thought. Most of my time this morning was taken up by preparing food. That is my real concern, I see now. Not that I can’t eat anything I want, but that I will be hungry and “stuck” out in the world with nothing I “can” eat. Which is more than hilarious because I work in a grocery store full of organic vegetables (all ok).
I have to admit I hate the word “cleanse.” I think I somehow associate it with “ethnic cleansing,” which is such a repugnant idea that the unfortunate little “cleanse” becomes repugnant by association. I think of the smell of bleach, and poison gas and people having their lives taken from them.
And then there is the whole idea of “cleaning” the inside of the body with food. Restrictive diet. Very restrictive diet. I’m really not about that.
So the question here is – why? Why am I set on doing a 10-day food cleanse diet, when I pretty much hate both the idea of “cleanse” and “diet?”
