Whole 30 Day 4 : How Many More Days?

Whole 30 Day 4 : How Many More Days?

8:30 a.m.

Alexis wouldn’t get out of bed last night due t0 hunger and fatigue. So I grabbed the bag of tortilla chips from the top shelf.

“I’m just going to have these chips,” crumpling bag.

“No you’re not! Put those down Kirk!”

“Just going to have a few…”

Then I hear thunderous footsteps and she is running into the kitchen and knocking the bag out of my hands.

That’s all it takes to get her out of bed.

9:05 a.m.

This morning was not a good morning. I’m not sure I can blame this on the Whole 30. I have never come to terms with the fact that every morning I wake up, usually from some insanely vivid dream about an apocalypse, and have to start over again from scratch. Sleep is designed to be a reset. To make us new again so we can start fresh. My pace and functionality when I wake up are slow and primitive. I can barely collect enough info to know who I am or what I’m supposed to be doing. But my mind immediately tasks me with connecting to yesterday’s activities and all the days before that. I have to send emails and battle with people and come up with conversation to talk to strangers. And this slow, peaceful time is ruined by the thoughts of everything past and future. I become overwhelmed, angry, confused. Enough to feel paranoid and disconnected. Enough to not want to take my legs out from under the covers and put my feet on the floor. But I have to. So I must. Today was one of those mornings.

9:34 a.m.

But now I’m plugged in. Dual monitors going off and I’m firing through work and I feel alive. This is my home.

Breakfast was very good this morning. Leftover roasted potatoes, scrambled eggs, avocado with salt and pepper, and blueberries.



Alexis had a scrambled vegetable arrangement, avo, and turkey. She doesn’t eat eggs because they are irritating for people with autoimmune, thyroid, or digestive issues.

9:45 a.m.

Oh, City Tacos just sent me a bonus reward email. “We miss you!” They said. “Enjoy a FREE taco on us,” they said.

Reply: “Fuck you.”

Gmail: “Mail Failed Delivery Attempt”

Probably for the best.

12:41 p.m.

“I just made the most amazing ranch dressing ever!”

Music to my ears sweet lady. Because Woody and I are constipated. Walked him around the block six times just now and nothing. That’s how I felt on the toilet this morning.

1:06 p.m.

This is called the “Shit Yo Pants Salad.” Not because of its digestive properties but because when you see it you shit yo pants with excitement.



A modern interpretation of the Cobb – lettuce, hard-boiled egg, cucumber, celery, turkey, and my friend Babe. Does that make it more real?

2:33 p.m.

Two hernias later, another single rabbit pellet in the toilet.

2:45 p.m.

I can see how this could become a cult. A charismatic leader coaching starving people to salvation.

“Do we need food!?” He would yell.

“No!” They would respond.

“Are we hungry?!?”


Our dog is a bad person. Alexis was taking him out for a walk and he started licking a fresh pile of diarrhea, per ushe. Alexis stopped him in dramatic fashion, per ushe. Not thirty seconds later he approached a homeless woman on the bench and started licking her face. “Oh little pup, you’ve been eating candy haven’t you?” And now Alexis thinks she is going to hell and I am laughing uncontrollably but also I hate myself.

6:08 p.m.

Out for a few hours for a shoot. No major meltdowns. It was actually pleasant to work with the people and I found my social skills to be incredibly sharp. I was confident and directive and felt pleased with myself.

On the way home we stopped at Ryan and Michelle’s to wish Jasper a happy 4th birthday (even though he insists it’s his 5th). There was a freshly made chocolate cake in a glass case. I took the lid off and put my nose one inch from the frosting and took it all in. Then I opened all their cupboards and inventoried the chips, chocolates, crackers, and fine cheeses.

“Kirk! Stop it! You’re sick.”

“Yeah dude, close the cupboards.”

They don’t understand the joy of suffering.

7:14 p.m.

Possibly the perfect meal. For a number of reasons – texture, flavor, nutrients, fulfillment. Pan seared Alaskan salmon, sauteed veggies, and the slaw.

A lot of times when I eat a meal I feel sick after. My stomach doesn’t know what to do with the food. I get nauseous and bloated. And I never feel full. Right now I feel perfect. Full and nourished but with energy. Alexis is making some bomb ass food and I don’t think we have ever eaten so good.


8:00 p.m.

I’m hungry again. With more bouts of insane energy and clarity.

8:06 p.m.

If I had to break right now it would be for chips. I miss the crunch and the saltiness.

Still waiting on the part where we save money from not going out to dinner as much.

10:38 p.m.

There is nothing you can eat after 9 p.m. that isn’t popcorn or chocolate that will even come close to making you happy.

Goodnight. I suspect the dreams of melted cheese will begin tonight.


Read Day 3 HERE.

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