So I told you back in April that I'd agreed to try a vegan diet with George, not for any reasons of health or conscience but mainly because she asked me to and I'm afraid of her.
We stuck to it for two weeks, as was the initial plan. Then she went away for the weekend--to her father's, where she couldn't pass up his salmon (I have to say, the man can cook). And while she was gone, I went with Lo and Biggy to Wild Wings, where the only vegetarian item on the menu, nachos, was not--needless to say--made with soy cheese. I ate the cheddar, and it was good. This led to a dairy binge of eggs and smoked gouda for breakfast the next morning.
Since, we have both continued putting soy milk on our cereal and in our coffee, and I have yet to eat a bite of flesh. For some reason, I just can't bring myself to do it. No Publix fried chicken, no Ted's bison burgers (Their veggie burger is quite tasty), no Tuna Helper. Strange. 19 years off, 6 years on, and I'm off again.
But I've figured out why I was such a bad vegetarian before--why the hair loss and split nails, why the muscle aches and fatigue. Eventually I get lazy--too lazy to open a can of beans or boil a bag of rice.
See the picture I posted? A carton of Paradise. No meat/no sugar. I had two cups for dinner last night and two more for lunch today.
I can already feel the roots of my hair shriveling up.
No comments:
Post a Comment