August 21, 2013

Taste Bud: 24 Hours Without Meat — My Story

I went 24 harrowing hours without eating meat of any kind – and survived. This is my amazing true story.

Day 1 — Tuesday, Aug. 13, 2013

11:45 a.m.: At Rumors in Middletown, a server brings me a cup of seafood gumbo and an order of grouper bites. I eat while casually chatting with a friend about the state of football in America. My journey begins.

12:10 p.m.: By this time, I have devoured the gumbo and the eight or nine bites of tender, fried grouper; I have no plan to “meast” (engage in a no-meat fast) for the next full day. Otherwise, I’d have gotten a bowl of gumbo, not a cup, and maybe insisted on a bite of my friend’s Philly cheese steak sandwich.

3:35 p.m.: I feel a familiar pull — a feeling I get occasionally when my belly craves an afternoon snack. Tragically, I ignore it.

5:10 p.m.: I leave work. My craving passes — or so I think. By this point, my body may be in the early stages of meat withdrawal.

6:05 p.m.: Home now, I realize I am suddenly hungry. My mind must be reeling, because when I look in my fridge and see three meat-based choices, I have an alarming and irrational thought: “I’ll just eat some frozen vegetables.” One of the tragic side-effects of meat withdrawal? You need meat so badly, you are too weak to cook it. Insidiously ironic.

6:21 p.m.: After microwaving Kroger-brand rice and broccoli, I sit down to eat and watch ESPN, barefoot.

6:26 p.m.: I have a vague sensation that something is missing, but I can’t comprehend what it could be; again, more evidence that I am weakening and brain function is deteriorating.

6:29 p.m.: It gets weirder: I not only finish all of the rice and broccoli, at no point do I stop to think, “Gee, I really need some meat with this.” Clearly, meat madness has set in.

7:10 p.m.: I chat and watch TV with my girlfriend and never once during the evening does my body cry out for so much as a Slim Jim. At one point, I am pretty sure she speaks Swahili and grows an extra nose, but in my weakened state, this doesn’t register as another classic symptom of meat madness.

11:05 p.m.: By this point, I am 11 full hours without meat. I sleep the sleep of the doomed, with tortured dreams filled with angry tofu and armies of crazed asparagus.

Day 2 — Wednesday, Aug. 14, 2013

6:30 a.m.: Alarm goes off. Getting out of bed is never easy, and in my weakened state, it’s a miracle I manage it. I press on.

7:05 a.m.: My stomach, now incredibly a full 19 hours without meat of any kind, siren-screams as the summer sun rises. But there is no bacon for breakfast; in my state of flummoxed confusion, I panic and eat Cheerios with blueberries and skim milk. Is there still hope?

9:15 a.m.: At work, concentration eludes me. In my crazed desperation, I eat snack crackers. My stomach accepts the meager offering, but the meat madness chortles menacingly. Why me?

11:20 a.m.: Finally, I start to realize that not only am I hungry, I have a specific craving. And at around this point, I realize the truth: If I do not eat chicken tacos, and soon, I will either descend fully into the madness ... or, god forbid, eat more vegetables.

11:43 a.m.: I am in line at Qdoba; only one employee is working the plodding assembly line, and at this point insanity descends upon me like a wraith from the very pit of hell. Cruelly, I can physically see and smell the nearby meat, yet I can neither touch it nor taste it. For a few moments, reality blurs. A clock screams. Everyone who speaks has apparently inhaled helium. In the distance, clams sing in harmony.

11:51 a.m.: I am startled back into coherence by the words, “Do you need a receipt?” With that, I take my seat and, like a single ravenous zombie at a Golden Corral of human cerebellum, I gorge myself on the delicious tacos, juice running down my fingers. Incredibly, I have survived.

Epilogue: I am happy to report that I am back to my normal self, and that while fruits and vegetables will remain in my diet, I now realize the risk I took. It is a time of reflection. I see my incredible ordeal as proof that I am in my very heart of hearts a survivor; I have beaten meat madness. For now.

Mini Fridges can help to keep the food safe

By Jamesmartin
What is the purpose of doing this. May be sometimes it can be stupidity. I have seen many people who wasn't eat for 8 hours and its look like that they are struggling for survival somehow on other hand appreciable for the better stomic work. Target range of mini fridge is a collection of many of amazing brands . You can use it to keep store the food.