I’m doing a fruit fast this week, internet, and as it stands right now, I would shank somebody for a slice of pizza.
I said it. Little Miss Yogi can’t do this anymore. I’m freaking out, man. I’M FREAKING OUT.
How long have I been on this horrific fruit fast, you may ask?
I know. Pathetic, right? It amazes me how much of my day revolves around food. It’s sad. I went to go buy bananas yesterday, and past my favorite pizza joint and out of habit I put my blinker on to go in. I don’t know whether to be in my house so I can eat fruit whenever I want or be out of my house so I don’t break into the mac and cheese. I can’t even Pinterest because looking at recipes makes me hungry.
What is up with this, people?? Am I losing it? (Related question- did I ever have it?)
I don’t know why I’m struggling so hard with this. My parents have a smoothie maker and a juicer and a well stocked pantry full of all the delights of every rabbit I’ve ever met. I started off my first day with a broiled grapefruit and strawberries and a big glass of freshly made pineapple-apple-mint juice. It was scrumptious. So why am I sitting here envisioning a toasted everything bagel smothered in dripping Manchego cheese?
Okay. Stop. Breathe.
I never knew how much food ruled me. I eat fairly healthily. I’m a huge fish fan. I voluntarily make and consume a massive amount of brussel sprouts. The amount of sushi my family goes through on a weekly basis would, quite frankly, make a lot of my friends gross out in a major way. That being said, when I crave a bagel, I go get one. If I want Chinese food at three in the morning, I have to have it. I will go out of my way some days to plan my schedule so I can go out and eat somewhere without my mom knowing about it. It’s my secret little act of rebellion (well, not secret anymore).
I feel like I’m being tested and coming up lacking, internet. Last week, I said I was going to make an effort to go to a morning class. I still haven’t, because the mere thought of having to wake up in the morning makes me anxious. The mere thought of denying myself certain foods, even for one day, makes me almost have a panic attack.
I guess I don’t have an explanation for that one yet.
In the mean time, I suppose I’ll go eat yet another banana.