Holy smokes! I have been so good about adhering to my gluten-free diet. It is so refreshing to not be a slave to my colon. (Did I say that out loud?) No more daily gut pains, no more tactically staking out restrooms every time I leave the house. I have dropped my title and duties as the Porcelain Convenience Warmer. Aaaaaaaaaaah! Why, I feel positively normal.
So why did I do it? Why did I cheat? I have so many excuses . . . and that's all they are: excuses. Humans have a funny way of forgetting pain and trauma once they've been far enough removed from it via time. Therefore, it all comes down to this: I was feeling great, we had a lot of upheavals happening all at once (albeit positive upheavals), I slacked on my discipline in exchange for convenience, I caved to wanton desire . . . and for almost an entire week I ate foods that most definitely were NOT classified gluten-free (flour tortillas, pizza, lasagna, cake . . . Oh good grief, I don't want to admit to any more contraband due to an intense feeling of shame and embarrassment.).
And what happened? My gut tightened up. I started having horrible stomach pains. I started visiting the bathroom with ridiculous frequency. I had to get up two or three times a night just to let the toilet know how much I appreciated its existence. I had to cancel a walking date with my poor little doggy because I couldn't be separated from the bathroom for more than five minutes.
I am disgraced. I am ashamed. I am regretful. I am penitent. I am back on the bandwagon. Because I'm tired of squeezing the Charmin'.
So why did I do it? Why did I cheat? I have so many excuses . . . and that's all they are: excuses. Humans have a funny way of forgetting pain and trauma once they've been far enough removed from it via time. Therefore, it all comes down to this: I was feeling great, we had a lot of upheavals happening all at once (albeit positive upheavals), I slacked on my discipline in exchange for convenience, I caved to wanton desire . . . and for almost an entire week I ate foods that most definitely were NOT classified gluten-free (flour tortillas, pizza, lasagna, cake . . . Oh good grief, I don't want to admit to any more contraband due to an intense feeling of shame and embarrassment.).
And what happened? My gut tightened up. I started having horrible stomach pains. I started visiting the bathroom with ridiculous frequency. I had to get up two or three times a night just to let the toilet know how much I appreciated its existence. I had to cancel a walking date with my poor little doggy because I couldn't be separated from the bathroom for more than five minutes.
I am disgraced. I am ashamed. I am regretful. I am penitent. I am back on the bandwagon. Because I'm tired of squeezing the Charmin'.
