S o here it is: my last week as a CaveFritz.
If you've been following this series, then you'll know for the past three weeks, I've been trying to follow the paleo diet, and writing dispatches from inside my metaphorical cavehole.
To quickly recap: the goal f was to train myself to stop eating like a 15-year-old boy and more like the grown woman I am (for example, foregoing Cheetos for carrots, etc.), make it possible to fit my fat arse back into some cute clothes before summer hits, and learn about which foods are naughty and which are nice.
The basic premise of the paleo diet is to eat things a caveman would've had access to: meat, veggies, nuts, fishes, stuff like that... and then NOT eat things he didn't have access to: breadstuffs, Waffle House, bacon chocolate cupcakes from Tee&Cakes, Guinness...
Obviously, I quickly felt sympathetic towards this hypothetical Cavedude. Poor bastard never tasted French fries dipped in a Wendy's Frosty.
Anyhow, I'd planned to eat like this for a month and, instead of stressing over whether it was making a difference on my scale like a vain little idiot, I'd focus on how I felt. (And then totally weigh myself when it was over -- self-restraint has its limits.)
So here we are. The last week. And now feels like an excellent time for a sweeping apology. Let's get started.
Shit I am Heartily Sorry For:
-- Having a forbidden beer two days into the diet
-- Having another beer about five minutes after finishing the first one
-- Having lots of beers, nearly every single day after Day 2, and telling off the bartenders who deigned to serve it with a snarky, "Just like the cavemen drank."
-- That one time I went to Tee&Cakes "just for black coffee, no cream, please, I'm PALEO now, sheesh! And yes, I will have that cupcake you've got right there. No, not the gluten-free one...grossout."
-- Not shutting up ever even one day for the past 21 days about how great the paleo diet is
-- Making pancakes at 2 a.m. after bar-hopping
-- Not shutting up ever even one day for the past 21 days about how great I feel on the paleo diet
-- Making pancakes at 2 a.m., again after barhopping, because it turns out I make awesome pancakes, holy shit. I'll high five myself right now, and the world -- starting with myself -- should not be denied these simple pleasures
-- Not shutting up ever even one day for the past 21 days about how much better my belly feels being on the paleo diet
-- That bout of explosive mud butt in the bathroom at work after a huge, delicious Snarf's sandwich
-- Forgetting I'd vowed to stop making pancakes at 2 a.m. after barhopping and making them a third time
-- Taking the Lord's name in vain when I realized I was out of pancake mix
-- Writing the punk song, "Pa-le-OH-NO!" (Excerpt: We don't want it! We want cake! We're sick of veggies, fish and steak!")
-- Smashing my friend's guitar after screaming the "Pa-le-OH-NO!" song to his cat and dog, while I was house-sitting for him
-- Eating the cake I found in the fridge while baking a frozen pizza
-- Putting you, Dear Reader, through this circle of hell
-- Not making it more than a solid day -- possibly only the first one -- eating strictly paleo
So yeah, sorry.