Day twenty-three.
I felt god-fucking-awful when I first got up this morning, like I was hungover — but how could I be? I had three sips of that noxious poison. Jesus, juicing, what have you done to my defenses? Maybe I just need to be drinking more water…
I think more than anything things are just getting fucking tedious. I’ve been eating more or less the same thing every day for the past three weeks — I can’t think of other conditions of my own choosing where I’d be doing that. Absurd. I want to chew goddamnit.
Breakfast drink: one and a half bananas, strawberries, yeah.
Snacks: another handful of pecans.
Evening drink: more leftovers, over ice. MAKE IT END.
