So, uh, I quit. I quit Master Cleansing.

I tried to talk myself in to sticking it out. I really did. I kept telling myself all the little motivators I mentioned in my last update. I told myself that if all sorts of other people could do it, I damn well could. I told myself that not only were all my friends and family aware I was doing it, but I was broadcasting it on the internet – to quit would mean failure, and everyone would know.

But then I went to the gym. And I’m totally one of those sick people who genuinely enjoys the gym. I love to sweat, use my muscles, feel all strong and healthy and accomplished. And when I found myself sprawled out on the workout mats, head all fuzzy and discombobulated, too tired and pissed off to do a crunch or run on the treadmill, I thought, this is totally moronic. I’m miserable. I don’t care if I’m so loaded with fucking toxins that I mutate in to the Incredible Hulk, this Master Cleanse sh*t has got to stop.

So, I gathered up my stuff, walked out of the gym, walked to the closest cafe, bought a parfait, and f*%king chowed down. And it was AWESOME. Immediately, everything turned around. I was cheerful, happy, energetic, ready to run on the treadmill and hang out with my boyfriend and paint my room and do all the things that seemed utterly insurmountable while I was living off of f*%king syrup and lemon juice. Read More »