Cleanliness. Next to Godliness?

So I'm Master Cleansing for a Week.



And I already want Coast. Bad. I can't stop thinking about food. Vividly mouthwatering images of steaming bowls of soup, glistening sushi, perhaps a Brie Burger from Silver Cloud.

I would suffer the consequences of life as a blueberry for one stick of that magical Willy Wonka meal gum. Just the taste of food. The texture of it. To have something to chew, for God's sake!

Maybe I'm just complaining too much. I have no idea. But I'm not really hungry. I just want food. I have already reached a zen-like plateau of dull aches and pains. (Or is that just from 20 minutes ago when I tripped up a flight of stairs?)

What I am sure of is that whoever is responsible for creating a crash diet based on lukewarm, spicy lemon water is absolutely the most insane person I've never met.

This is the new direction of this seemingly blatheringly simplistic blog. I will attempt an update every day of the state of my brain and body--really get to the heart and soul of the master cleanse.

Please kill me now.