Day 4 of the Hirsute Hairshirt

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:

Side 1:

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?

Side 2:

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--

turn ourselves

& our hairshirts

inside out, let the world

itch--for once--