In the words and spirit of John Bon Jovi – we’re halfway there, woah livin’ on a prayer. If the Whole 30 was a 5k, we’d be 1.53343 miles deep, and if we were halfway through traveling around the world I think we’d be floating in the Indian Ocean somewhere. I don’t know, I’m not good at Geography but if we were – we’d totally be chilling with zinc on our noses and drinking piña colada’s. We realize that’s against the rules of the Whole 30 but cut us some slack – we’re stranded at sea, we have bigger problems. Anyways, here’s how things have been going IRL:
Day 10: Dear Diary, it’s been a fortnight since I last remember what it felt like to be full and satisfied. I’m weak and famished, and I look like a skeleton of my former self. J/K! As we speak our steak’s are marinating in a flavorful Chimichurri Sauce and Jenn is fixin’ to make Mashed Sweet Potatoes and Broccoli. When Jenn and I went to Texas I learned the phrase, “Fixin’ to do ____” and immediately fell in love. It’s kind of like committing to something without going all the way. Example: “Tanya, have you cleaned the cats litter box today?” From the couch I could yell: “I’m fixin’ to do it!” Which means I totally will but I offer no specific timeline in which I will do so. Anyways, I read that the last several days were supposed to be the ones in which most people bail from the Whole 30 and are indubitably the most difficult. The fantastic news is I’ve been so sick, it’s hard to even register how my body is feeling beyond desperately trying to cough up a lung and blowing my brains out of my nose. In a tricky way, I was able to skip the hardest days of this process and all I had to do was get a violent sinus infection. Next step, tiger blood.
Day 13: Okay, promising myself tiger blood was a little preemptive. Apparently that’s more slotted towards Day 16, so I’ve got a few days before that kicks in. I’m hoping it manifests itself in having a good week at the gym and not a in stream of prostitutes, drugs, and verbal outbursts (I’m basing this on Charlie Sheen’s version of tiger blood) The hardest part of the Whole 30 hasn’t been anything to do with the Whole 30, but being sick and not being able to truly gauge where I’m at in this pivotal point of the process. I can earnestly say one weird thing is that I’m not craving anything. Like a normal person Jenn misses cheese, but I’ve known for awhile there were many parts of my diet my body wasn’t agreeing with and it seems to be jammin’ on the lack of dairy, gluten, sugar, grains, and overall fun. I’ve never had a healthier appetite. We’ve made our own cauliflower based hummus, chipotle pork chops, prosciutto wrapped chicken stuffed with spinach & artichoke, and Jenn has even been making us our own motherfucking almond milk. I really wanted to say we’ve been making our own almond milk, but I’ve helped exactly 0% in that endeavor.
Day 14: I’m going to be real about this – I was already pretty lame prior to starting the Whole 30. The other night I was excited when the sun finally set at 8:22pm because it felt like it was the more acceptable to suggest getting into bed to watch Hulu than it had been when it was still the light of day. From what I can ascertain, I think this is part of growing up. Truth be told, it’s easier to hole up and be a little anti-social right now. It’s not like we can’t hang out – and on the contrary to what I thought originally; it’s been easy to find alternatives when eating out with friends. I just have to be that asshat whose like “Yeah, I’ll take the Chopped Salad – hold the mozzarella, beans, and instead of the Italian Dressing which sounds delicious; I’ll just have some oil & vinegar on the side.” (This exact scenario happened and I hated myself immediately)
I’ve found with the exemption of booze from my weekends, I can’t pinterest, craft, or cook enough. I’m basically one scrapbooking class and a few wives away from becoming a Mormon. Today we went thrifting at the Saver’s down the street where we procured a glow-in-the-dark Ouija board, and I found a pair of pants that may not show my buttcrack or give me a muffin top. If you know me, you know both of these things in one pair of pants is a monumental success for me. We then went to Michael’s with the intention to craft our own zen garden. We saw one at a hippie store a few weeks ago and were floored when the price tag was $30.00. Bitch, please – it’s sand in a tray with a tiny fucking rake. We were able to get everything, even the small rake (found in the dollhouse section of the craft store) for under $10. I don’t know if I’m actually proud of this or if I’m just really filling a monster void for boxed wine in my life.
To recap – things I enjoy: meal planning, yummy food, pinterest, tiny dogs, ouiji boards and other assorted forms of wizardry, arts, farts & crafts. Things I don’t so much enjoy: boogers and coughing, not remembering what beer tastes like, ordering douche salads for lunch, and feeling like a social recluse.
2 days till I am el tigre, and 16 days until I am done. Praise Gaia.