Quitters Never Die
So I had to quit the fast. Please don't be disappointed. I'm no quitter...usually. It was just that I was so weak. I could barely get up the stairs or out of the subway and I could hardly hold a conversation. Every morning as I left my apartment, I acted like someone who had been in solitary confinement for a month and was seeing the sun for the first time. I kept waiting for this euphoric burst of energy that was supposed to be coming any day, but literally every day I just got weaker and weaker and it became harder and harder to suck down that lemon-cayenne gasoline. And so after 6 days of not eating, I began to wonder, "Am I really detoxing or am I just dying?"
And so I called my mom, who is a doctor, and asked her what she thought of my fast. She thought it was dubious. She wasn't too sure how all of these things were supposed to clean me out, not that she has anything against holistic medicine. According to her, cayenne pepper and any kind of pepper for that matter just go right through you. But she just recommends, if you want to flush out all the bad stuff, to just get a colonic and getting it over with in one fell swoop. I'll let you all know if I decide to do that. Seems a leeeeetle bit scary.
Okay, but even this talk with Dr. Mom didn't sell me totally. I weakly crawled onto my couch and breathed deeply and listened to the hollow sounds of my heart beating against my empty carcass of a body. I was sure that I was just expiring. I didn't want to give up, however, I only had 4 days to go. So, I decided for inspiration, to go weigh myself. Maybe having dropped a few unneeded toxin pounds would keep me focused. So, I step on the scale, and I kid you not...ladies and gentlemen, I would like you to meet the only person capable of gaining 2 pounds after living off of lemonade for 6 days. This is when I yelled, "Fuck this!" and went into my kitchen to smoke a ham.
So, the fast is over. I am a terrible detoxifier and anorexic.