I awoke this morning with the same thought I have every morning, which is “What am I gonna eat today?” And then I remembered I was on the 3-day fruit fast. Let’s see: for breakfast, 1 banana, 1 apple, another banana, some green tea and 3 Advil to counteract the huge caffeine headache I’m anticipating. I look longingly at the boxes of cereal stacked up in the cabinet and am tempted but resist.

RJ and I leave the house on time, but the f*&^ing garage door will not shut and I’m having trouble backing the SUV out of our Lilliputian garage, so I end up leaving the door open and trenching our front yard to avoid backing out. Yard of the Month, here I come. I arrive at school late with a belligerent toddler hanging off my arm. As I’m getting settled and trying to coax RJ into his pair of shoes, the teacher I work with comes in and says, “Sheri, you look sooo tired.” What’s up with that? I absolutely hate it when people say that. Is this really a statement of concern? To me it sounds like, “You look like crap and it’s so obvious, I need to point it out to you.” I want to cry, but I trudge through the morning. “There’s always lunch,” I think to myself, forgetting that there’s only 1 banana and an apple in my bag--no delicious granola bar as usual.

The afternoon gets better when I get creative with some mealy apples we have in the fruit bowl and cook them up into a chunky apple sauce. Sprinkled with a little cinnamon, they’re downright delightful.
 Dinner is avocado and tomato with a little lime juice and (sorry, Baron) salt. I miss the chips. MJ has a glass of wine and I flip him off. Dessert: another banana (they were on sale at the Teeter).
 All in all, the fruit thing went ok. It’s made me more mindful of what I’m eating and cured my desire for bananas.

~ Sheri Joseph