TL/DR: 284.2 pounds, down 8.6.

I’ll admit it – today was the first day I had two full jars of juice. I’m drinking the juice out of Mason jars because they’re 32 oz. and I’m supposed to have 64 oz. per day and that makes it easy.

Well, easier. As easy as drinking something that looks like snot with bits in can possibly be.

But I powered through, and got it choked down for the second time today. I still have the headache nagging away at me, but I’m hoping that goes away. I’ve come to terms, in a very general way, with the gnawing, aching hunger that I’m feeling every second of every day. I’ve accepted that it’s my new best friend, and is here to stay. At least for a while. I’ve had more energy today than I have in quite a long time, so there’s a plus, and something I wasn’t expecting for at least a couple weeks.

What I’ve also discovered is that I am not a nice person without my food. I have absolutely zero tolerance for anything even approaching the vicinity of annoying right now. One reason why I’ve limited my going-out-of-the-house-at-all things to only vital trips to maintain what sanity I’ve managed to scrape off the bottom of the juicer’s filter.

I’m hoping that goes away soon, too.

It helps that I get to work from home, so I don’t really need to see, you know, people at all, for the most part. I just have to take a deep breath and think about it before I fire off an email or make a telephone call.

At this point, I’m pretty sure that if someone came within biting distance of me with a taco, they’d lose a hand. And maybe a bit of wrist. I’m not picky. A friend made eggs and toast tonight — one of my favorite things — and it was all I could do not to come across the counter at her or sit there drooling like her dogs. Instead, I took a deep breath and another big swig of snot.

Well, not really, but you know what I mean.

My friends have asked me if I’m going back to regular food when I’m done with all of this. My answer is usually along the lines of “Did you have bacon with breakfast this morning? I can smeeeeelllll it.” To which they naturally respond by backing away slowly. Of course I’ll be eating regular food after this. Not at the rate I was, at all, but I’m not going to suddenly lose it because I had a cheeseburger.

Excuse me for a moment.

That’s better. Sorry, had to wipe the drool from my chin at the thought of… never mind. What was I saying? Right, food. I’ll allow myself some “unhealthy” food, as long as I make sure to exercise and eat right for a few days afterward. I’d already cut out much of the really bad stuff, anyway, like sodas, caffeine, most sugar, etc. So it’s not going to be a complete paradigm shift. Of course, I say that now…

Here’s a problem I never really thought I’d have again: I’m going to have to wear my belt, because otherwise these jeans will never stay up. I’m keeping them for comparison purposes, but I have a feeling pretty soon I’ll fit into the old jeans I haven’t worn in years. My friend asked me tonight if I thought, once I’m done with my 60 days, if I’ll go back to eating the way I used to, and I shook my head.

“Absolutely not! There’s no way in hell I’m going to put myself through this again!”

Which, I suppose, is the whole point of the thing.