Parents went away to visit friends last week and, safe from my mother's loving but bored, caring but intrusive, incessant need to monitor my alimentary intake, I decided it was time for a detox.

Basically, I ate brown rice, lentils, fruit, and these terrible wheatgrass-beet-radish smoothies for a week.

Guess what? I don't feel even a tiny bit better. The clear bright light of day can just go put a bloody bathrobe on now. So what if I'm a couple of pounds lighter (which, admittedly, is nice): my sad, pathetic isolated life lacked any immediate source of pleasure and delight (with the notable exception of E2, that is).

Time, methinks, for a retox...

Brain still woozy from the Ativan I had to steal from my mum in order to get to sleep after drinking coffee at 11p.m. last night...after having imbibed red wine, g and t, and port. Had a spliff then did some silly noding before finally realising I was too drunk to node. This morning, two boiled eggs...four cups of coffee so far...not sure what lunch'll be.

Oh, that muddle-headed I took e last weekend and now my life is falling apart feeling, yes, indeed, much more familiar. What was learned from this whole experience?

Habitual or not, I function better burnt out.

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