The Master Cleanse

Dave mentioned that he wanted to check out the 10-day Master Cleanse. After trying on practically every pair of pants in my closet and having none of them button successfully, or at least comfortably, I thought, "maybe he's on to something." So I agreed to try it with him. Here's why I wish I hadn't...

Day 1

• I hardly slept last night because I was sooo nervous about living on lemonade and sea water.
• I'm ravenous, and craving things I hardly ever eat. Spaghetti and meatballs from Fiddlers Elbow? Chicken noodle soup?? Creole pork chops with red beans and rice???
• I have the worst splitting headache of all time.
• Dave said, "So far not even one hunger pang!" Bastard.

Day 2

• The headache is still splitting.
• I'm still hungry. And dying for Cafe Rio.
• My mouth tastes disgusting.
• I'm a raging bitch and want to kill everyone in my path. Dave, meanwhile, as far as I can tell, is skipping through a field of flowers. Bastard. ( Just so you all know, I might call Dave a bastard several times over the next 8 days, but he's really really not. And I really really like him. A lot.)
• I'm perpetually on the verge of tears. For example, my eyes welled up when I saw a McDonald's bag on the sidewalk outside of Skyline High School. My route back to work from Skyline takes me past Dave's work, and I started crying because its been five hours since he's texted me and I'm afraid that in an effort to be a supportive girlfriend and do this cleanse with him, I've actually turned into such a negative whiny brat that he hates me. Then I decided I should probably tell my office mate what I'm doing, since I'm being such a bitch today, and explaining it to her got me all teary in kind of a mad way, and I had to go hide in the bathroom for a few minutes.

Day 3 ~ OK. Maybe this cleanse thing isn't so bad. Dave came over last night so we could enjoy our last glass of lemonade for the day and our bedtime herbal laxative tea (you heard me) together. He spent an entire episode of "House" massaging my head, sweet thing that he is (but don't tell him I said that...he likes to think he's an asshole). This morning I don't feel nearly as hungry, and my head only hurts in waves and not nearly as much. And I lost four pounds. BUT, I did have to use all of my restraints to not pull into the 7-11 and get a cup of coffee. I want a warm cup of cozy coffee SO bad!

[Later in the day I did have an emotional breakdown, but that was more because my job sucks ass than because the cleanse sucks ass. Note To Self: No matter how confident you are that you can leave work at 4:00, be sure to have enough lemonade to carry you through until 6:00.]

Day 4 ~ My knees feel swollen and throbby. Is that a detox symptom?

Day 5 ~ I felt fine all day. Seriously. Weird, right? And then this conversation happened...

stupid coworker: Hey Jess, are you still doing that crazy lemonade diet thing?

boss: WHAT is she doing to herself???

stupid coworker: She's starving herself for 10 days.

boss, to me: You are??? Do you think that could make you cranky?

Not anymore than five bowling events and a gala. Or that question.

Day 6 ~ Fine. Mercy. I give. I want to chew on something in the worst way. I'm bored of quote unquote, lemonade. I think the acid from the lemons and the cayene pepper are burning a hole in my esaphagous. I'm caving and drinking orange juice.

Day 7 ~ I have what I can only assume will be the best vegetable soup EVER simmering on the stove right now!! I can't wait to try it! Tomorrow I can have a salad for dinner. And I'll be back on regular foods Tuesday. Only nine pounds lighter. Ahh...its over. And I don't even feel bad about cutting it short.