Why do I say that? Because I'm fuckin' sick of this. I'm tired of my house smelling like a citrus grove. I'm tired of the fact that all I have in my fridge is cheese and lemons. I'm tired of hearing my stomach growl for longer than a minute. (That truly happened, and it scared the shit out of me. Not that there's any shit left really, but that's more than you all needed to know).
As it stands, I lost about 11 pounds in 6 days. By no means should I complain, but fact remains this was hellish.
And yet, as I sit here, drinking the last of the hellish beverage, thinking "I voluntarily do this to myself" I realize I do the same thing with smoking. I willingly do horrible things to my body, for reasons that escape only me.
Point is, the re-tox begins tomorrow. This is done mainly for Dan's safety, but for my own to boot. Let's be honest, though, it's mainly for him.
I would never reccommend this experience to anybody. There's plenty of better ways to reach Bill Bradley proportions of weight loss. Proper eating habits, regular exercise, the lack of tobacco inhalation. (Oddly enough, most of my boozing days are long behind me. Wondered how that happened?)
It was indeed a learning experience, and I learned that this is stupid. A mighty huzzah rings out from all the mugmakers at renaissance festival's across the globe.
See what I mean about goin loopy?