Today I broke my fast. Couldn’t decide where to go for lunch, ended up at Chipotle.
I ordered three soft tacos, steak, with mild salsa. It was a busy lunch hour and the man behind the counter made a mistake and laded my tacos with the hot salsa.
“Do you want me to make you new tacos?”
“Nah, I like the hot salsa too. It’s all good. Just put some of the mild on top.”
Now it’s twelve hours later and I’m in agony.
TMI TO FOLLOW*
I’m perched on the porcelain throne, and at this point I would swear my stomach didn’t digest the salsa at all.
Reminds me of when, after a crazy overtime stint where I didn’t eat for two days and stumbled home to a crash-sleep, I woke up in a daze and stumbled to the fridge acting purely on primal survival instincts.
Apparantly, my survival instincts have suffered some genetic drift over the millennia, because I came to consciousness staring at an emptied jar of cocktail onions and empty tub of hummus. :o barf smiley ensued :o
Yeah, I’m better now. Was fasting for health reasons - I was coming off a five-day vacation in Vegas and was sick of the bloated feeling from heavy drinking and all-you-can-eat buffets.
Though, I gotta say - I really liked the way I felt after the fast. I might do another one soon.
…I’ll break this next fast with something a bit tamer. Mild farina, perhaps. Or a nice steamed carrot.