There's nothing quite like the sudden realization that the blog post you could swear you wrote...and which you were confident was nestling quietly on your blog...was a mere will-o'-the-wisp, a wraith, a ghost of your imagination. My excuse...and what will be used as a standard excuse for any show of ditsy-ness over the next three weeks...is that (despite my end of year claims towards moderation) I decided that a 21 day cleanse was just the thing to while away those grey end-of-January-beginning-of-February days.

There'll be no time to whine about the weather...or mull over how many layers are needed to maintain feeling in my extremities...I'll be too busy trying to decide if my morning "shake" should be "chocolate" or "vanilla" or trying to find something from the restricted lunchtime food options that will make quinoa vaguely palatable (today's "pilaf" being not quite the taste sensation that I had envisioned). And yes, in case you're wondering, all quotation marks are being used sarcastically.

The best case scenario come mid-February is a sort of re-set...where my body forgives me for all of the junk that I have been throwing into it when I travel. Worst case scenario...I go insane. On a positive note, the cocktail shaker...instead of being unemployed for the next three weeks...makes a perfect jumbo straw holder (the multi-colored plastic tube being a necessary component of any self-respecting "shake").