Who didn’t eat for 30 hours.
Although my Twitter updates may seem contrary, the 30 hour fast wasn’t actually that bad. I mean, I ate a regular size dinner (that is to say, large), and my body was like “Meh. Thanks for feeding me.” And then we were good. I woke up this morning, packed my [vegetarian] lunch, ate breakfast, and left for school. Easy peasy.
Except for lunch. That was terrible. I avoided the cafeteria by staying in my debate coach’s room, where Bart and Tessa and Mia were. Mia was also on the fast, but Tessa and Bart were not. Bart’s soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich never smelt better, and Tessa’s popcorn filled the room with a salty, buttery scent for an hour. It. Was. Torture.
But once I stopped thinking about food, I was good. If I ignored any mention of food, I was just fine. I could have gone another thirty hours.
Survivor, here I come!
