So yesterday I waited anxiously for my new frying pan to arrive (I gave away all my old ones), which I was particularly excited about because this is the first adult pan I’ve ever owned. It’s from Germany and it’s infused with ceramics and shit, and it matches my kitchen appliances. So I get a notice from Amazon saying the delivery driver is only a few deliveries away from my house, which is perfect because I was about to leave for work, and I had just enough time to put together the dinner that I had planned earlier in the day. I watched that delivery driver sit completely still about 3/4 of a mile from my house for upwards of 45 minutes, then I watched him get about a block away, then I watched him drive 2 miles north. No fucking pan. So I stuffed three slices of bacon, some cheese, and a handful of almonds into my face before running out the door to catch the train to work. I was not happy.
It was Tuesday, so it was the night of The Irish. About 500 of the drunkest 21-22 year old Irish exchange students Chicago has to offer cram themselves into the bar for Top 40’s music, $3 Bud Light pitchers, and $4 vodka drinks. These adult-sized children grab each other violently in jubilation, douse themselves (and me) in alcohol, scream, jump up and down, and occasionally throw some fists right up until they’re very unwillingly ushered out the doors at around 3:30am. I personally escorted five of them out early for repeatedly taking off shirts, general drunkenness, and aggressively grabbing me when I tried to break up a fight. They collectively leave various pieces of jewelry, hills of discarded plastic cups and pitchers, puddles of vomit, and a pond of beer in the center of the dancefloor a quarter inch deep and twelve feet across. After the last ones are out and the cleaning is done, I usually get out of there around 5 in the morning, hop on the train, and am home by 5:30. Then I walk my dog, so I’m not asleep until 6:30am Wednesday.
I woke up around 12:30 this afternoon. Still no fucking pan. I used a cheese stick and almond butter (separately) as bandaid solutions, plus the butter and the MCT oil in my coffee act as an appetite depressant, which got me through my morning of studying and my 3:30pm coffee meeting. When I got back home at 4:30? Frying pan! It was everything I had hoped it’d be. I very quickly fried up a couple eggs, ate some cottage cheese (I did not realize I bought the low fat kind until that moment) then ran out the door to catch the train to jiu jitsu.
I had small bouts of nausea and fatigue throughout the day, but it could’ve been a result of my night and my initial lack of real food in the day, or because I didn’t drink enough water today. I think my history of hangovers and my appreciation for discomfort make me uniquely adept at suffering through some of the difficulties associated with cutting carbs from your diet all at once. I saw a number of articles saying that weening yourself off slowly is preferred, but that’s just not my style.
Speaking of which, I’m more certain that I’ve caused some serious damage to my ribs, as it now hurts to do things like move or breath, but without health insurance, I’ll just have to ride this one out. Hopefully the keto diet is good for your bones. I’m sure I could Google that, but I’m comfortable sticking with ignorance and optimism for now.