Well, here's the thing: after a few days, the shirt feels less itchy! In fact, you stop feeling the pain (does this mean I have to upgrade to a coarser vestment? Start sleeping on a bed of nails?). I'm actually looking forward to eating homemade pizza tonight with a glass of non-alcoholic Cabernet (have I gone completely batty?). Seriously, here are the two sides of me talking:
This suuuuuuucks! I have no time for unsalted pistachio nuts and cut up fruit. I am craving sushi like nobody's business. Is sushi okay on the austerity plan? Okay, how about if it's brown rice? And no mayo? Can I please have the Trader Joe's brown rice California roll, or does it have to be the 100% veggie roll?
I am loving this clear-headedness. Who needs wine? I like my sober evenings and popping out of bed refreshed and ready to greet the day. I am way more productive when I do not overindulge. Much more efficient with my time. I really have my mojo working today.
And while we're sharing, unbelievably, miraculously, on my first day wearing the mohair suit I came across this poem called "Book of Hours" by Kevin Young in a recent issue of Poetry, from which I quote (I kid you not):
Let us go
each, to the valley--
& our hairshirts
inside out, let the world