The continuing adventures of Drew, Stacey, and Stephanie’s 5-Day Juicing Challenge
This morning’s check in:
Stacey: Bleep bleep bleep-bleep, bleeeeeeeep.
Drew: Are you ok?
Steph: I haven’t slept. I have a headache. What planet are we on?
September 15, 2016 - Day Four-Hundred and Forty Two of Our Self-Imposed Inprisonment
It seems like years since this horror began. Time has no meaning anymore. I can only trudge on and pray for salvation. Preferably in the form of a grilled chicken sandwich with bacon, cheese, and chipolte mayo with a side of bbq baked beans, macaroni salad, and a tall IPA.
Breakfast: Cauliflower, Celery, Pears, Ginger, Cucumber
The guards have arrived with this morning's drink. It looks and smells like celery consomme. It tastes like death.
Mid-Morning Bathroom Discovery:
“LET'S ALL GO TO THE Y-M-C-A!! IT'S FUN TO STAY AT THE Y-M-C-A!! SOMETHING SOMETHING SOMETHING Y-M-C-A!!"
Morning Snack: Coconut Water
The orange-flavored snack I used to find comparable to toilet water is now oddly sweet and refreshing. Could my taste-buds be conforming out of a need to survive? Or maybe - just maybe - it's like coffee and beer. Drink enough of it and eventually you become
an addict a connoisseur.
For fear of my own sanity and the safety of those around me, I have removed myself from the workplace. I now hide in my home, waiting for the visions to pass. Visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. Baked sugar plums in a port wine sauce dressed in caramel shrouds with chocolate glaze taunt me like whores in a whorehouse that's filled with... whores... or something. "Yes! I would like a scoop of french vanilla ice cream on top. Thank you very much."
Lunch: Lemon, Apples, Cucumbers, Celery, Parsley
Fruits and vegetables that I once called my friends have turned on me. The only thing more foul than their taste is their odor. To paraphrase the immortal words of General Jason Countryman, leader of the Bacon Brigade and a proud warrior of the Fried Pickle Revolution... "Celery. You are dead to me."
I think Drew and the celery are conspiring against me!
Afternoon Snack: More of that breakfast atrocity
I attempted to drink down the juice that hell hath wrought upon me and ended up making a terrifying dash to the restroom facilities. I made it in time to toss it all into the toilet, including what was left in the cup. Oddly enough, it looks the same in the toilet no matter which direction it came out of me from. That's not a good sign. I should warn the others. Light the warning beacons of Gondor! Or maybe send a text. I'm sure a text is fine.
Post Afternoon Snack: A crate of Tums.
A nice pause from the napalm diet.
Dinner: More of that barely tolerable concoction from lunch
If you listen closely, you can hear a Jimmy Buffett song.
No wait. That's my stomach.
Evening Snack: Pineapple, Sweet Potato, Celery, Lemon, Lime
Day Four: Damage Report, Sponsored by Zoloft.
Me - "Can we sleep now, Mommy? Can we sleep and dream of Denny's?"
Drew - Screaming out from the bathroom in his own personal hell, "This is getting annoying!"
Stacey - Still bleeping.
TO BE CONTINUED…
STAY TUNED FOR DAY FIVE, THE DAY OF REDEMPTION