It occurred to me that the last time I wrote about being on Whole30, I was one mild annoyance away from a homicidal rampage.
Y’all, it’s gotten a lot better.
I didn’t kill anything or anyone. I didn’t even go so far as to punch a pillow.
Maybe I punched a pillow. I don’t know. That was eleven days ago. So much has happened since then.
Actually, there really has not been a lot that’s happened since then.
But my attitude has changed. I’m eating enough, which helps. Apparently, before, I wasn’t eating enough. Probably something to do with the whole “I’m a picky eater” thing. That picky eating thing hasn’t really changed. I’m just eating more of the things that I’m allowed to eat that I like.
I found a type of sausage that’s legal for the Whole30. It’s amazing. I might be addicted. Problem is, it’s wicked expensive.
I haven’t weighed myself. That, too, is forbidden. But I’ve been told by a number of people that I look like I’ve lost weight. Now, these are people who know I’m doing Whole30. So it’s possible their pumping rainbows up my butt in order to encourage me to keep it up for eleven more days.
And that’s all I have left. Eleven days.
I really want to go out on March 3 and get a pizza. But, apparently, I have to work my way up to this stuff. Otherwise, all the things I want to eat could tear me apart. I assume it’s revenge for ignoring their deliciousness for 30 days straight.
I’m told I need to gradually reintroduce the things that I cut out of my diet. That makes sense for people who cut things out to find out what they have sensitivities to. Like if they want to find out if gluten is a problem, you introduce bread and if it makes you sick, obviously, that’s a problem.
But I didn’t do Whole30 to find out what I’m sensitive to. I’m doing Whole30 because… Uh… Well… I don’t really know why I’m doing Whole30.
I still say Erin cast some sort of spell causing me to think this would be a good idea. At this point, I’m not sure what the goal is. Other than to get to the end of it and say that I had the willpower to do it.
Yes, at one point, I nearly quit. But I didn’t. I didn’t quit. I won’t quit.
I didn’t cheat. I won’t cheat.
And in eleven days, I’ll be able to eat whatever I want. No matter how horrible it temporarily makes me feel.