I’ve been told by my social conscience that I’m not allowed to tell you about what happened to me today. Let’s just say it involved a public bathroom, a pair of jeans that may never be the same, my cursing the word “juice” (there may have been actual fist waving and looking up to the heavens) and having serious afterthoughts about Gweneth Paltrow’s sanity (this is, after all, her cleanse of choice).
After that I really wasn’t sure I was going to make it through the rest of the day.
Why am I doing this again?
Oh, right, sheer curiosity. Didn’t someone say something about curiosity killing a cat of some sort? I like cats. I don’t want them to die. I also like me, and don’t want me to die…from embarrassment, or juice poisoning, whatever comes first.
I decided to pull up my big girl panties and soldier on. I made it this far, all I needed to do was pinch my nose through three more juices. I started this masochistic process, and by golly, I was going to finish it! And finish it I did.
I’m so glad I get to chew tomorrow.
The grapefruit juice is actually really good