Abstaining for 21 Days: My Detox Diet Food Diary Day 3
The Oscars: Putting a Serious Cramp in My Cleansing Style
10:something a.m. And you can already tell what kind of day it’s going to be, if I’m getting to the 9:00 a.m. juice this late. And you would be right. It had already been a crazy morning, and we were barely getting started! One child dropped off at school, the other’s homework dropped at same—he emailed from my ex’s, no explanation, no thank you. Just attachments. Apparently my telepathic mommy powers would guide me. So, that done, plus 10-minute chat with friends in the school cafeteria. Heidi: “I’ve been reading your blog on the site. Are you really doing that?” I told you I was trying to fly under the radar on this one! Then, Johanna (best-“boyfriend” ever!): “I got you a present.” Only Johanna could find me a Jane Austen finger puppet while on her they-ski-but-me-never-again family weekend at Jiminy Peak.
Cabbed home with Heidi, fell a little in love with the driver who called me princess and laughed when I asked if he’d please tell my kids! Always puts a smile on my day when someone shares a little nice. Walked in the door of my apartment, and unfortunately, the day didn’t end there. Saw child’s school-play script on the kitchen table, a slight problem given the once-a-week rehearsal is today. Call school—please lend her a script so I don’t have to send my overworked, underpaid staff (my parents!) to school with it. They would be otherwise occupied manning my apartment while I went to the office.
Food Cleanse Is a Breeze Compared to Fios—Nightmare!
Fios is coming. Fios is coming. The electrician installed the outlet they were supposed to install last week because Verizon was coming today and needed the outlet. NOT a fan of last minute. I’m more the “what are you doing for lunch 12 years from Tuesday” type. While all subcontractor hell breaks loose, I’m on the phone with our staff, tracking down Oscar gowns for a guest editor, finaling copy, trying to keep up with emails—and getting to juice 1. Got it! Call Dania—what picture should we put in the cleanse blog today? Idea, idea, idea—go! I take a few so-so pics on the Blackberry and email them to her. They’ll do.
Major nightmare with wiring and emptying the broom closet—my sacred stash of Diet Coke—plus raising my voice when my mother comments about my doing a 21-day detox cleanse. “Just don’t, OK?” was the gist of my response. Sadie, plus juice/meal, puppy equipment, laptop, handbag, child’s sneakers (which I now realize I forgot to tell my ex to pick up at the doorman—best email him that I’ll drop those at school tomorrow morning), and I was out the door.
Sometimes, a Diet Cleanse Is 2 Steps Forward, 1 Back
It’s 2:27 p.m., and I’m about to eat my noon meal. Remember yesterday’s excitement about being closer to the detox diet schedule? Pride cometh before the fall! Big time. But let’s discuss for just 1 sec about how delicious it was. Well worth the delay. Red lentil hummus wrapped in cabbage. Who knew?! Knew Dania would love it and made her taste—I’m seriously so annoying! She did love it, though. Daniela said my skin looked great. Tara said I looked lighter. Lindsay said she was having fun reading these blogs. Made her promise to tell me if they got boring. More Oscar gown searching—I don’t think I looked this hard for a wedding dress! (Dior, btw, very spectacular in a John Singer Sargent sort-of way). Post-NY-Fashion-Week staff debrief, several calls from child protesting a scheduled visit to the orthodontist, 3:00 green juice, Daniela sniffed, Tara ran for cover—if it’s not run-over-by-a-truck-well-done chicken, she’s not interested. She took Sadie and walked away!
Late for Lemonade: My Predicted Favorite Cleansing Juice
Bolted into the house after 6:00, only to find Verizon had already left. Loudly aggravated with poor, harassed mother, who forgot to call and tell me when they were leaving. As I try to drink the lemonade, I manage a few sips here and there, between discoveries of the myriad problems left behind by my Fios upgrade. I’m sorry. Why did I sign up for this again? My phones didn’t work, my WiFi connection went in and out, killing all hope of getting my usual zillion hours of work done tonight (including not being able to talk to Melissa when she called at 9:00), the new remotes for the TVs didn’t control the volume, and there was a substantial delay between the pressing of a button and the appearance of the guide, channel change, whatever. Time to cry—4 hours on the phone with 3 different tech support people, each of whom “helped,” told me the problem was fixed, only to find out it wasn’t, or there was a new problem. Add to that no clocks on the cable boxes (that’s what was in inventory at the moment, according to a tech helper), and 1 cable box “installed” on top of my desk, which has now been rendered useless. I was on the verge.
It’s 11:00 p.m. Think I Can Still Eat My Diet Detox Dinner?
Hardwired to the internet at this point, having plowed through emails and sourced all of the Oscar dresses—thank you, Katrina!—talked to Tara, tucked in child, only to be scared senseless when he reappeared asking me to print something in the morning. Hmmmmmm. Too bad I can’t end here. There’s a certain symmetry I’m sure isn’t lost on you. However, 11:00 is for amateurs. I had copy to final and a blog post to write. Plus, dinner. Late, but so delicious. Vegetable croquette with chopped greens. One thing this cleanse has made me even more aware of—how the frantic pace of my life affects what I eat. I have to be able to grab what’s handy—no time for niceties. Right now, healthy foods and juices are readily available because someone else is making them and delivering them, and if you put it in front of me and don’t make me prepare it or think about what I am, or I’m not, allowed to eat, I can stick to this, no problem. But when I’m responsible? I’m not so responsible.
Can I Still Have My End-of-Day Brownie Reward for My Day of Cleansing?
My laptop clock says 1:34 a.m. (remember, I no longer have a clock on my new cable box!). I think it may be time to shut down the house—and I’ve just noticed that my internet connection dropped—AGAIN!!! Seriously, I’m right next to the router. How awful is this equipment? Blood boiling. Not exactly the calm, rejuvenating day Yvette hopes I will have. You know it’s bad if we’re less than 12 hours in and all I can think is: I miss Time Warner. Let’s hope tomorrow is a better day—for cleansing, and at-home technology. Pony Express anyone?—Nancy Rotenier