Week Two Adjustments

This Whole30 plan is bullshit. If I tell you I’m doing the Whole30, I’m a fucking liar. Not because I’m secretly cramming alternating spoonfuls of fettuccini Alfredo and crème brulee in my face, but because it’s just more obsessive than I am capable or interested in being. I don’t want to be the asshole that goes into a bar, doesn’t order a drink and then places a complicated salad order. What would you think if you heard someone place the following order “I’d like the Caesar salad with grilled chicken. No dressing, no croutons, no cheese please.” THAT IS NOT A CEASER SALAD! That is fucking lettuce with chicken on top. And there’s nothing wrong with that for you. I just don’t want to be that person. If I wouldn’t eat it at home, why would I order it AND pay for it in a bar/restaurant? So time to readjust this plan a little.

What I am doing is cutting out white foods; flour, rice, added sugar, 95% of dairy, and as many unnecessary ingredients and preservatives as I can for 30 days. After 30 days of eating as clean as possible; everything in moderation. Except crème brulee, I think I’m going to o.d. in a bath tub of shit. Somebody get Fantasy Factory on the phone so we can make this happen!

This week I hit that point where your body knows something is up and you’re a little nauseous and a little achy. I am probably one of the only twisted fucks who enjoys this part. It reminds me that I’m getting somewhere and that I’m doing this for a reason. That reason being a new wardrobe. FUCK YEAH!

So there’s that.

And then there’s this.

No alcohol. This isn’t tough because of the actual giving it up, it’s tough because the reactions you get from people when you go out and they become aware of the fact that there is water in front of you. They either try to get me to break or they are uncomfortable with my sobriety. To be fair I’d be uncomfortable too. If you think I’m judgmental with a buzz, I’m 10 times worse without one. Some of my favorite reactions:

From a friend who clearly had beer goggles that night: “You’re a hot chick, why are you so insecure? Let’s just have a shot.” – Um…what?

Same night different friend (looking around the bar): “Wow, that’s like a sex addict going to an orgy and just watching”. – I cannot argue this.

I’ll be honest I know I won’t make it 30 days but now my stubborn streak has kicked so in, 14 days is looking like a piece of cake now. Mmmmmmm cake. Wait, what? What was I saying, I mean before the cake? Oh right, 14 days, I’ve got this.

And clearly the hallucinations have started:
Me: I think the mayor eye fucked the shit out of me tonight. A couple times.
WMFS: The mayor was there? What?
Me (to imaginary mayor): You want some of this? Lemme see your bank account.
Me (to WMFS): How much does a mayor make? I think I’ll start fucking the mayor. I mean could you imagine me at political events! This will be awesome. Epic even!
WMFS: How do you know who the mayor is?
Me: How do you not know who our mayor is?

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    • Carrie
    • January 10th, 2011

    Hey I ordered a drink…soda water!! That was the lamest salad I have ever ordered, even for a very picky eater like myself!!

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