Day 8 in detox: Partly Cloudy; Full Moon

So, I’ve passed the week milestone, but I’ve promised to give this thing up on Friday. Promised to resume consumption of ‘normal’ quantities of caffine by means of black coffee. I’ve likened the week long practice as being much like PMS in that anything and everything can be ultimately blamed for it: forgotten car keys, traffic violations, spats with mother, confrontations with others regarding personal and/or career goals. All can be attributed to a basic deep human need for a sandwich and a cup of joe.

Last night I lay in bed trying to fall asleap, my mind raced on as it sometimes does, but without the scary wave of heart palpitations beneath it. I began imagining that all of human interaction and reaction was based in cellular physiological conditions influenced by nutrition. If the calm, weird, space-cadet girl I was this week was a result of my dietary shift, then perhaps the silly, hyper, strange, misunderstood woman I am in day-to-day life is also the result of food choices. Maybe the granola diet of my youth was itself responsible for my being ‘misfit’ throughout all my time in the education system.

I heard a staccato exhale from beside me.
‘What’s so funny?” I asked, surprised at the timing.
‘Nothing. Just trying to clear my stopped up nose.’