If you’re new to the blog or haven’t visited in a while, read last week’s post “21 Days Without Sugar” to understand how my secret but impossible dream of veganism has led me to THIS.
As a reminder, “this” is not a sugar cleanse. I’m not counting fruit, wine, cereal, etc. as forbidden foods. None of that stuff is a problem for me. And I’m not on a diet. I’m on a “let’s try to stop mindlessly sticking our hand in the bag of chocolate chips” mission. I know others are out there doing this with me. No matter what day you’re on, I’d love to hear how it’s going so far.
Let’s get down to business.
Friday, Day 1: Felt a slight pang from passing on the dessert after Shabbat dinner. But it’s not like I denied myself the challah. So no rage fits yet.
Saturday, Day 2: Surprisingly easy. Was rather pleased with myself that after finding the Starbursts I confiscated from my four-year-old daughter earlier in the week, I didn’t swallow the package whole or even consider licking a pink one. Passed on some serious desserts at night. Went to bed smug about it, naturally.
Sunday, Day 3: Spent a good part of the afternoon talking Jenni off a ledge, which helped keep my mind off the treats I’d have to skip during the Superbowl. (My regular blog readers know Jenni as the Gayle to my Oprah). Jenni is doing the challenge, too. She sent me a long email summarizing her experiences without sugar on day 3. I’ll leave you with the last line: “I think the lack of sugar may be making me psychotic. I have never written an email this long to you before.”
As for the Superbowl offerings . . . it was oddly liberating to keep my hand off the cookie tray. Having none was actually easier than trying to have just one like a reasonable person. But to tell you the truth, earlier in the day I’d received a wonderful email from an editor of a literary magazine accepting one of my short stories. So I think I was “flying high” from that. Certainly there’s a lesson we can learn here. The joy from the good news trumped the cookies.
Monday, Day 4: Unfortunately, my oldest was home sick so I was trapped in the house with the aforementioned bag of chocolate chips. I didn’t have any, but by the evening I was a major grouch. By dinner time I’d lost my will to eat. Nothing sounded good. “What’s the point?” I thought. “The meal ends here anyway. If there’s no dessert, why even start?” When I called Jenni to complain, she suggested I eat an apple. I suppose I gave her the same useless advice the day before.
It didn’t help that my husband always goes on ice cream or pie runs for us. (I swear he keeps the one remaining Baker’s Square near us in business.) Obviously it’s touching that he thinks I can and should eat dessert all the time. But Bryan is the most portion-controlled person on the planet. He’ll make those two pieces below last all week. I don’t have that kind of control.
I’m feeling rageful as I write this. Not at Bryan, per say. More like at the world. Everywhere I go there’s a bowl of M&Ms. Or maybe I’m having a sugar addict’s withdrawal hallucination!? I’m being serious though–I actually feel angry. And kind of depressed.
Marching forward anyway. Sigh.
How’s it going for everyone else?
Jump to “The Dessert Police: Day 10“