Thud. Thud.

That, my friends, is the sound of us hitting the wall.

I hit first. Being the trendsetter that I am. John followed shortly thereafter. Most would chalk that up to us being on the same diet. I believe it's because I look so good running madly into a wall. You can decide for yourselves.

The last couple days have felt progressively worse. Day 2 was actually pretty good. Day 3 was rough. I spent most of it lightheaded watching Master Chef. A show about food. Pathetic. Me. Not the show. Show is quite good actually. Assuming you're not on a fucking juice fast. In which case, it's pure hell. Today is day 4, and I'm pretty well sick of not eating. It's not that I'm especially hungry. Just moderately so. Or that I'm craving anything in particular. Just pizza, french toast (bastard), mac and cheese, fish and chips, a fucking pear, etc. I'm really just sick of not eating. To be honest, I miss fruit the most. Could be because there's so much in my house and I have to consume it all through a fucking straw.

Also, I was promised good poops. And that was a damned LIE!!! I was regular the first day, and haven't really pooped since!! Granted, I pee at least every hour. But it's a let down none-the-less. I guess the good news is I'm down 6.5 pounds, but I'm sure most of that will be back.

Anyway, we're at the wall and wondering if we've got the desire to keep this up another week. We're "re-evaluating" tomorrow. Have enough food in the house to last us 2 days, so I don't expect to stop shy of Thursday, but we'll see. John is weak.