Saturday, February 22, 2014

21-Day Sugar Detox, Day 14 - One week left!

The last few weeks, I've been scrambling around trying to pack a two-bedroom apartment to move it across town to another two-bedroom apartment. I think we got rid of most of our furniture in the move because we were just too damn tired to move it. The list of furniture we have left (Poang chair from Ikea, Ikea dining table, dresser, and a World Market coffee table) is shorter than the list of furniture we either threw away, sold, donated, or put in storage because muscle fatigue made the idea of carrying it up a narrow, twisting flight of stairs seem like running the Empire State Building.

But we are official in our new apartment! It's pretty sweet. Even though we were sleeping on an air mattress for the first few days, and run an air purifier at night because we can hear every movement our neighbors make (i.e., plugging in an iPhone, moving furniture at 3 in the morning), and if we don't turn our bedroom heater on, it sounds like a goblin is banging a hammer on the pipes. Why a goblin? Because, my apartment, my juvenile imagination.

It is really swell to be out of the purgatory which is suburbia. Not to knock the suburbs, but without kids to send to the highly-rated neighborhood schools, it's not worth dodging soccer moms in SUVs that have no regard for other people on the road, or runners trying to cross the street at the crosswalk. Gosh, I've Hoka-kicked so many SUVs in Littleton.

These are my Hokas.
There are many like them,
but these are mine.

The 21DSD is going well. I've lost a bit of weight, at one point was down 7 pounds and that wouldn't do, so I've upped my calorie intake by including an extra snack per day. I know I'm not supposed to track my weight during the detox, but since I haven't actually been hungry in 14 days, and haven't been exercising at all except to move 400 pounds of books, 300 pounds of furniture, 35 pounds of cats, etc. etc., my energy levels aren't really affected.

One of my first nights in the new apartment, I was worn out from a long day at work, followed by continued packing/cleaning of the old apartment. (We used our Jeep to move, so we were moving little bits at a time and only really finished moving this past Tuesday. Longest. Move. Ever.) Anyway, I thought, "I deserve pancakes. I've earned pancakes for dinner."

So I made pancakes. I don't remember where exactly I found the recipe, but it was a simple blend of coconut flour, eggs and chopped banana. I added some baking powder for fun, and pecans because I had them. Heated up a pan with some coconut oil, poured, and was pretty impressed by the initial results.

Nice. Round and pancake-like. I let it sit for a few minutes until the edges started lifting up. And then I realized I hadn't unpacked my spatula. Panicked. Improvised with a small cheese slicer and a butter knife.

And this happened. 

Awesome. So whatever, I start to eat my weird banana omelet thing because it tastes great even though it looks a little more like an abstract Africa. While I'm eating, my cat Jack decides to show me he ate a piece of string earlier in the day. I'll leave out the details of the awesome time I had chasing him around the apartment before he could scoot his butt on everything I own.

Good times.

Hopefully the next week is a little less uneventful.

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