Finito

I called Bill just before lunch and told him to swing by (he was on his way back from recycling our Christmas tree — that's right, folks, the McCrackens are movin' on up
— in that we won't be keeping our Christmas tree until spring clean up this year — also I'm considering eliminating the use of capitals and periods — instead I'll just use the big dash — what do you think ... doh, what about the question mark? — oh well, farewell giant dash, I'm back on the period again).

I told him that I wanted him to take me to lunch.

While on any other week this would not seem significant, but it was today. The grilled chicken fiesta salad I had for lunch marked the break of my fast.

Yep, ole Chubby McFatgirl fasted for 36 whole hours.

The fact that I made it that long is a miracle since Chubbs here loves herself some food. I was hoping to go longer, but the effects of the detox were bringing me down. I should have probably pressed on through, but I ate a salad instead.

I was initially disappointed in myself, but considering that this is the first time that I've ever done such a thing and I did manage to go an entire 36 hours without eating one damn thing (I was drinking this juice concoction) ... well, I'm just gonna give myself a "good job" and call it good.

(Note to self: Good job on keeping your resolution to try to be nicer to yourself. At least that's one New Year's resolution that still entact.)