I guess things are just…easier this time around.  With the Master Cleanse, I mean.  The Lemonade is less maple-y than I remember, I didn’t have to pray my headache away on day three, and I’m starting to see my one, true, original chin again.

Not to say that this is easy. While I’m not dreaming of cherry cobbler or obsessing over string cheese, I still could be heard today, shouting from my office, “IS THAT PIZZA? WHO IS EATING PIZZA?!?!” And while, unlike last time, I didn’t think, I should just quit, just get some pizza, smelling the aroma was like smelling the cologne of an ex-boyfriend — it holds fond memories, but I don’t want to go back there just yet.

The Master Cleanse might be the biggest mind f*ck you will ever voluntarily give yourself.  Because you’re making a choice, and sometimes? if you’re like me? you immediately want to choose whatever choice will get you instant gratification. And choosing to severely control how you react in such situations is kind of a big deal.  I’m sure everyone fights their own battles doing this thing, and that’s difficult to explain when people assume you’re starving yourself to look like Beyonce or something (FIERCE!).