FebFast Day Seven


Day Seven of FebFast

I dreamed about a pie. I woke up on day 7 of FebFast dreaming of flaky, sauce-drenched pastry and rich meaty gravy. It was a square pie, the kind they sell downstairs at Gusto in the Clarendon Centre where I work. Am I craving pies because I'm no longer drunkenly wandering into convenience stores like 7-11 or the Quix and pushing lukewarm, dried out pies into my face? Perhaps.

Went to visit my nan in her maximum security retirement complex, which is sobering at the best of times, even more so with a sobriety hangover. Yes, you read right, a sobriety hangover. I think I am going through some kind of detox or withdrawl. I was very lethargic and short tempered all weekend. Was almost late this morning (although I didn't need to get to work as early as I did, it turns out). Hopefully this clarity that has been promised to me will manifest itself later this week, and this exhausted feeling will dissipate.

Catching up with an old mate who has been through an extreme detoxification and rehabilitation process, and hopefully they can shed some light on this sense of blah that I am experiencing.

Waistline 133cm