I swear I drink half a gallon of juice a day. I can’t get enough. Sometimes I feel like all I eat is juice and cookies. Cookies because nothing else appeals–juice because I crave it day in day out. And yes, most of the time some eating is involved: I like my orange juice thick with pulp (but oranges are mostly gross,) and Trader Joe’s green juice, thick with banana and mango purée, is a smoothie-like crack. The only thin juice I tolerate isn’t even pure juice, but apple cider heavy on the spice. Finally, cow juice: yup I love me some whole cream line milk. But I can’t fool myself into shakes spiked with eggs or veggies or any other healthful things.
I am forcing myself to chow down on the only thing that isn’t making my stomach turn these days (even cookies overwhelm me by the time my tummy feels full.) Oddly enough, it’s quiche, with eggs masked by the cheesiest cheese. I throw spinach in there for good measure and as long as I close my eyes I can finish a decent serving.
I wonder when the cravings will start. Or perhaps juice is the only craving. It’s very specific. Thick juice please, as much sugar as possible apparently. Poor little bean. Doomed to diabetes. Maybe I should binge on water: surely my bladder can put a stop to this crazy mind of mine.