Foodette Reviews: Three-Day Juice Cleanse: Day 3

Then I woke up this morning after a sleepless night and realized that I ran out of money and went over budget. This must be what it feels like to be Ty Pennington. I found $3.60 in coins on my bookshelf and in the cup holder of my car and, inexplicably, in the bottom of a glass of wine, and bought some lemon juice and spring water with it. I’m kicking it old school with a gallon of water and a head full of crazies. I have Tabasco sauce and maple syrup in my fridge, so I’m taking today to start the Beyonce diet. Apparently, it tastes like Beyonce. I’m pretty sure that if I drink this all day, I’ll start to hallucinate Beyonce, so it’s worth a try.

This tastes disgusting. Four pounds of brownies arrived in the mail.

7AM: I don’t feel hungry, but that’s mainly because I don’t feel anything but cold. Juicing is the equivalent of flushing a coffee-maker out with vinegar, except in this case, I’m the idiot who flushed a coffee-maker out with vinegar. My corpse will be squeaky-clean when I finally succumb to the sweat chills and diabetic coma of too much fruit sugar.

7:30AM: I keep phasing in and out of sleep. I’m going to die in my sleep, alone and bloated with beet juice and Tabasco. Ew. This is going to be like the end of a Richardson novel. I’m going to literally die penniless, malnourished, and delirious outside a Whole Foods. That’s basically the plot of Clarissa, right? I hate lemons. I hate cayenne. I hate water. Every sip of this foul beverage tastes like I’m ingesting my own stomach acid.

8:30AM: All the single ladies, put your hands up. Now put them over your hearts and promise that you’ll never date someone like me. Juice cleanses are murderous. I thought I saw my own blood at the bottom of my “#1 Dad” tumbler, but it was really just a clump of hot sauce. I swallowed it anyway and now my throat aches. This time, tomorrow, I’m going to house a plate of tamales like I’m selling them prime beachfront property in Miami.

9AM: I almost broke. I went to grab a yogurt with my final dying breath, but upon opening it, discovered it was partially frozen from the inconsistent temperatures of my refrigerator. The universe is testing me.

12PM: HOLY CRAP, I ATE A BOWL OF CHILI IN MY SLEEP. There is an empty bowl in my sink and it looks like I murdered a squirrel with my mouth. Betrayed by my own body.

7PM: You guys, food is amazing. It gives you so much energy! 300 calories on the elliptical without breaking a sweat. I feel like I could crack a nut with my glutes. Food, guys. No more juice.