Went to Whole Foods tonight to stock up on juice for my fasting weekend. Do you know how much I love that store? Do ya? I wanna marry it. White dress and all. Sorry, King Pen. We had a good run. But I can’t resist the charms of Whole Foods any longer. Just send my things to the produce section, aisle 1.
No, I’m kidding. Whole Foods already has a girlfriend anyway. Some little open art market in Soho.
On with the story. I put Chipmunk in my new fabulous sling, and I blended right in with my fellow bohemian shoppers buying their organic bean sprouts and hemp toilet paper. I was coo-ool.
Here are the juices I got, all from Bolthouse Farms:
I also got some off-brand cranberry/rasberry juice, and white grape juice to supplement in case we need it. Did I mention King Pen is doing this with me? So I needed a lot. Do not ask how much I spent. I had to work out a finance plan with the cashier. Monthly installments. But can you put a price on health? Can you?
Don’t answer that.
Anyway, we’re stocked up on primo juice, and I’m ready to go. I’m eager, and yet, dreading the whole thing. I know how good it will feel to do it, but man oh man, the pain you go through at first. Guh. I’m already pining for that first missed cup of coffee in the morning. Water with lemon just doesn’t pry my eyes open like that beautiful brown bean of joy. Wah. I’m gonna missa my cuppa.
Well, I suppose with that thought, I should turn in. I’ll be up and at ’em tomorrow, and I’ll blog as I fast so you can follow along. (Since you’re all just hanging on my every word. You don’t have anything else to do, right?)
G’night, moonpies. See you in the morning.