So after a brief string of multiple migraines(which I'm pretty sure I can attribute to both the lung and the ex, but who's keeping tabs) I decided I was finally going to take the plunge. She was so pumped, and even said she'd do it with me.
I read a bunch of blogs, scoured the internet for recipe ideas, loaded up a grocery cart with kale and spaghetti squash and coconut oil, the whole shebang. I was a little hesitant, because frankly a world without Goldfish crackers or bourbon isn't exactly a world I want to live in. But I committed.
I was kicking ass and taking names for two whole days, until this gorgeous sunny day happened upon central Indy and I just HAD to meet a friend at a local brewhouse patio for an afterwork wind-down.
I opted for a steak salad and tequila, the most paleo-friendly of liquors. One thing led to another and somehow the waiter decided to bring us shots of Jack and as I stared into that little brown vessel of amber whiskey I realized there was a very slim chance I could go another 28 days on this super strict plan that told you no cocktails were allowed, and so I lifted her high and took her down in one swig.
The night quickly snowballed into cucumber vodka lemonades, lobster mac & cheese and halfbaked cookies. We did however make some lovely new friends who felt it necessary to pick up our tab at the end of the night, which counteracts the guilt I had for only lasting 2 days.
At least I came out of that little experiment with a newfound love of spaghetti squash. And a heavy appreciation for anyone who can commit to something like that. That's gotta count for something right.
