Day 13 of this cleanse, and I feel robotic. I’ve had this sort of malaise for a few days now…and I’m realizing how much of our lives is built around food as a celebration. Food as family glue. We almost always go to lunch on Saturday or Sunday, all four of us sitting around the table reading, Paul and I sipping a crisp glass of wine, splitting a yummy cheeseburger and fries. Or going to the movies, and splitting a huge tub of buttered popcorn (half way and on top) and chocolate covered raisins. Or at 6 p.m. on a random Tuesday night, sipping a glass of wine at our kitchen counter and talking about our respective days.
It feels foreign to me to eat to live — not the other way around. It feels like a job. I truly don’t ‘crave’ anything at the moment (ok, well maybe I kind of sort of crave a huge buttery baked potato with melted cheddar and extra sour cream, but that’s not the point). What I crave and horribly miss is the coming together of family and friends over food and drink.
It’s just not the same when I’m crunching on brown rice crackers and eating split pea soup by myself at the kitchen table. It’s just plain sad.
