Fall off the wagon Friday

So here it is, almost a month and a half into my 'juice fast'. It's not been so much a 'fast' as it has been replacing the majority of my meals with juice, and when I do eat solids, actually having a healthy meal, small portion and not over eating. And for whatever reason-that went out the door today. 5 pieces of fried chicken and a couple of Mexican pastries later, and I am pretty sure I want to crawl somewhere and hide. Not only do I physically feel horrid, but mentally and emotionally horrid as well. I want desperately to just throw up and go home and drink some fresh juice. I can't believe that this is what our society does to themselves day in and day out. I wish I could keep this feeling fresh in my mind to prevent this in the future, but I know it will happen again. And when it does, it truly renews my desire and willpower to continue to drink fresh juice and eat healthy meals.

Day 1, again

Today starts my 'first' day on the juice fast but for the second time. I've been 'mostly' juicing the past few weeks, but there have been moments of lost will power. I've been actually doing good with exercise, and now I need to step it up on the juice fast. So today starts day 1, again. Going to take it a day, then a week at a time. If all goes well, by halloween I should be my goal weight, or at least really close. And maybe even 'in shape'. This whole juice fast has been revolutionary for me and the way I view food and what I eat. I just no longer want to or am able to eat 'crap'. My body actually craves the fresh juices, craves the fresh vegetables and fruit. Hopefully, by blogging this I can hold myself more accountable and achieve more success. Wish me luck!

It's just a phone.

Last night, I dropped my iPhone for the umpteenth time. But this time, unlike all of the others, I got the dreaded shattered screen. From that single moment, my reaction was not what I expected it to be. Normally, I would have been in hysterics, dramatically proclaiming my life as I knew it was over. But last night, I had about 5-10 minutes of being pissed off at myself for dropping it, then a new mindset snuck in. It's just a phone. When it comes down to it, it's just a replaceable phone. How could I mope about 'mourning' my still working but shattered screen iPhone when so many others have much much worse problems in their life. I don't know if I contribute this to growing older and 'wiser' or an ever changing mind set or both. But I do know I like the direction my thoughts and actions are headed in my life.

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A policemans Life: Flight Attendants Dance to Lady Gaga song on an Ai...

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Untitled Short Story

"I'm so sorry, but I have to do this for both of us. Goodbye," she sobbed. Then she slowly pointed the gun, and pulled the trigger. It went off and the shot echoed through the small bedroom. The woman lay dead on the floor. Her husband rushed over to her and held her in his arms, crying softly. He sat there holding her for an hour, letting his mind go blank. He finally laid her back down on the floor and got up. He saw the gun lying on the floor and picked it up. He looked at his dead wife, then at the gun. He put it to his head and pulled the trigger. Click. He opened his eyes. She had only put one bullet in the gun.

He stumbled into the kitchen and called the police. They arrived quickly and began to ask questions. He was getting confused, there were too many questions, too many.

"STOP!! Stop it." And with that he ran out of the house and jumped into his battered truck. He backed out of the long driveway slamming into a tree. The police rushed out to find him slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious. The paramedics got him into the ambulance and rushed him to the hospital. On the way there, the man regained consciousness. His head hurt and he didn't know where he was because he couldn't see. He tried to get up but he couldn't. He heard someone saying his name. He slowly remembered the events of the past few hours. He had started drinking, then the argument. He didn't mean to hit her, but he was drunk. Then he remembered her running into the bedroom. He staggered after her, only to find her with his gun. He started yelling at her, telling her she was stupid and she didn't have the guts. But then she said her last words and pulled the trigger. BOOM. He was jolted out of his thought by a large bump in the road.

The ambulance slowed down and turned a corner. It regained speed then came to a sudden halt. He could hear the back doors opening and felt his stretcher lifted out. He didn't hurt anymore but he still couldn't see. He wondered why he didn't hear voices. He could feel the cold air and started to shiver. After being pushed into what seemed to be a building, a blindfold was taken off his eyes. He squinted to see where he was, but the lights were too bright. After he could finally see, he looked around the room he was in. It was bare of furniture and had concrete walls and floor. On the ceiling were chains. He saw a metal door. He looked down and the stretcher was gone. He walked around the large room and saw an assortment of whips, chains, and other weapons. He spun around at the sound of the door shutting. He saw a man standing there. The man started walking toward him. He was talking but it was jumbled. Then, the man was gone. He blinked his eyes, but there was no one there. He noticed a strange odor and looked down. There was a liquid starting to cover the floor. In a flash, the whole room was an inferno. He shut his eyes and could feel his body burning and the agonizing pain. He screamed, but the fire only got bigger. He opened his eyes and saw his wife standing in front of him. She asked him why he hit her, why he drove her to death. He stared on in shock, as his body burned. She started to cry, still asking why he hit her. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the man was there. He screamed again, but the man just raised a gun and BZZZZZZZZZZZ.

He jolted awake at the sound of the alarm clock. He looked around his small bedroom and at his wife lying beside him. She was sleeping yet, and he could see the bruises he had given her. He started to cry. He sat there looking at his wife and crying. After a little while, he got dressed, kissed his sleeping wife and said he was sorry. She looked so peaceful. He quietly left the house and drove to the police station to turn himself in.

FEAR

He seems frightened. No one can find out. It's a secret, hidden deep in him, but only a few know, swore in secrecy. If others were to know, he would have to run, run as far away from his life as he can. He has tried to escape from the secret, but it is with him every second. It is ruining his life, the fear. He needs to tell, share, but not yet. The fear dictates when. The proper time shall come, but will it be too late? Only the fear knows. He wants, needs, yearns, but again, the fear. It will go away, eventually, with age, but for now it is there. The fear is made from the fear of others, and of this he seems frightened.