Day 4:
Well, they say that day 3 is the worst. It is supposed to be the day that your body craves food the most, and the start of your detoxification process. This is when the body leaves the storage mode of the starvation cycle. Apparently the body first realizes that its not getting the calories it needs so it tries to hold on to every last calorie it receives, but then a point is reached where it realizes it just needs to use the reserves to stay alive. From this point on I am supposed to be using my stored energy, AKA fat, and with this my body will clean the stored toxins from my body. My colon should be mostly empty, aside from the plaque that has built on the walls from years of junk food, and I should start processing all the toxins through my liver. I will be honest, yesterday sucked! I didnt have hunger pains, but I had cravings for food, and boredom at work really amplified how much me getting up and going to get a snack from the vending machine really just kills the boredom. Towards the end of the day I just had to leave work. I have a job as an engineer on Nuclear Power Plants, and if I dont have my head screwed on tight I could potentially cause a failure in the plant, and create a meltdown. So with the haziness I was having all day, and the distraction of my thoughts towards the end of the day I just needed to get home. Once I got home I took a nap, and felt much better. Went to pool league, and watched my friends eat the typical bar food I loved so much, and swill back beer and I didnt want a drop. I am proud I didnt fold when I really wanted to a few times.
One note on a hilarious, but tortures episode for me, I drank my morning salt water for my flush, and the previous two mornings the flush happened within 30 minutes and was over within an hour, well not this morning. I woke up at 6 and had my flush consumed by 6:30, from this moment on I waited, and waited, and waited. If I dont leave my house by around 7:30, I wouldnt make it to work in time. I have a 55 mile commute to work through the worst traffic Philadelphia has to offer, aside from downtown streets, during rush hour. So finally I have to make the decision to just start to get ready and leave for work and take my chances. Sure enough I am just about to leave when I get the feeling the flush is going to start. I get two rather significant, eliminations and realize I just need to leave for work. Its 8 am, and I need to be at work at 9. I turn on the radio, and as my luck stands there is a traffic accident on 95 south just below where the Blue Route enters, and its causing the bottom 20 miles of my commute to be a crawl. I instantly called my manager told him I was running late due to inconsistency this morning, and that traffic was horrible due to an accident. On my way there I had a few pains, as if I would need to go again I instantly started praying to the sphincter gods that mine would hold. Once on route there is no convenient place to stop, and even if I could pull over in time, the splatter of this ass water would surely hit me no matter what position or precaution I used. I think the only way I could possible not get this literal shit all over myself would be to sit on a solid concrete guard rail, or over the edge of a bridge and moon the cars passing as I dowse their windshields with years of colon build up. Luckily my lamentations where heard by the gods, and I made it safely to work 30 minutes late mind you.
Later I told my roommate about my morning commute, and he suggested I pack an extra pair of underwear for the trip. I had to remind him that if this accident ever happened, a clean pair of underwear would be the last of my worries. I might as well start sitting on a large plastic bag, for if I ever do shit myself on the way into work my biggest concern is not ruining my car. I mean this is no average shit that would just get compacted against my ass and trapped in my boxers. This shit would seep its way through my clothes and ruin my car seat. I might as well just get out of the car and set the interior on fire, throwing my clothes in with it. Maybe this way when the police are dragging me to jail, I can try to use the excuse of a car fire catching my clothes on fire, and I shit myself in fear of burning to death. Lets hope this never needs to be a reality.
I still fight on! 6 days to go.
Well, they say that day 3 is the worst. It is supposed to be the day that your body craves food the most, and the start of your detoxification process. This is when the body leaves the storage mode of the starvation cycle. Apparently the body first realizes that its not getting the calories it needs so it tries to hold on to every last calorie it receives, but then a point is reached where it realizes it just needs to use the reserves to stay alive. From this point on I am supposed to be using my stored energy, AKA fat, and with this my body will clean the stored toxins from my body. My colon should be mostly empty, aside from the plaque that has built on the walls from years of junk food, and I should start processing all the toxins through my liver. I will be honest, yesterday sucked! I didnt have hunger pains, but I had cravings for food, and boredom at work really amplified how much me getting up and going to get a snack from the vending machine really just kills the boredom. Towards the end of the day I just had to leave work. I have a job as an engineer on Nuclear Power Plants, and if I dont have my head screwed on tight I could potentially cause a failure in the plant, and create a meltdown. So with the haziness I was having all day, and the distraction of my thoughts towards the end of the day I just needed to get home. Once I got home I took a nap, and felt much better. Went to pool league, and watched my friends eat the typical bar food I loved so much, and swill back beer and I didnt want a drop. I am proud I didnt fold when I really wanted to a few times.
One note on a hilarious, but tortures episode for me, I drank my morning salt water for my flush, and the previous two mornings the flush happened within 30 minutes and was over within an hour, well not this morning. I woke up at 6 and had my flush consumed by 6:30, from this moment on I waited, and waited, and waited. If I dont leave my house by around 7:30, I wouldnt make it to work in time. I have a 55 mile commute to work through the worst traffic Philadelphia has to offer, aside from downtown streets, during rush hour. So finally I have to make the decision to just start to get ready and leave for work and take my chances. Sure enough I am just about to leave when I get the feeling the flush is going to start. I get two rather significant, eliminations and realize I just need to leave for work. Its 8 am, and I need to be at work at 9. I turn on the radio, and as my luck stands there is a traffic accident on 95 south just below where the Blue Route enters, and its causing the bottom 20 miles of my commute to be a crawl. I instantly called my manager told him I was running late due to inconsistency this morning, and that traffic was horrible due to an accident. On my way there I had a few pains, as if I would need to go again I instantly started praying to the sphincter gods that mine would hold. Once on route there is no convenient place to stop, and even if I could pull over in time, the splatter of this ass water would surely hit me no matter what position or precaution I used. I think the only way I could possible not get this literal shit all over myself would be to sit on a solid concrete guard rail, or over the edge of a bridge and moon the cars passing as I dowse their windshields with years of colon build up. Luckily my lamentations where heard by the gods, and I made it safely to work 30 minutes late mind you.
Later I told my roommate about my morning commute, and he suggested I pack an extra pair of underwear for the trip. I had to remind him that if this accident ever happened, a clean pair of underwear would be the last of my worries. I might as well start sitting on a large plastic bag, for if I ever do shit myself on the way into work my biggest concern is not ruining my car. I mean this is no average shit that would just get compacted against my ass and trapped in my boxers. This shit would seep its way through my clothes and ruin my car seat. I might as well just get out of the car and set the interior on fire, throwing my clothes in with it. Maybe this way when the police are dragging me to jail, I can try to use the excuse of a car fire catching my clothes on fire, and I shit myself in fear of burning to death. Lets hope this never needs to be a reality.
I still fight on! 6 days to go.
kedavra:
I hope i'm not prying too much, but why aren't you eating???