If a cow ever got the chance...

I didn't mention it before, but my first acupuncture treatment was on Tuesday. No horror stories to report; it was fine. The needles don't hurt much, but you really have to suppress the body's desire to extract the foreign object, mine kept saying "PULL IT OUT, PULL IT OUT." The acupuncturist couldn't have been nicer and she clearly knew what she was doing, unlike the puncture-happy interns. Eventually the twenty minutes were up and I went home figuring I must be in the control group because nothing felt any different.

I don't think I'm in the control group anymore. Because since waking up on Wednesday morning, I haven't been hungry. You have to be vegan or near-vegan to realize how miraculous this is. (It's the only thing I hate about eating this way, actually: you're hungry ALL THE FUCKING TIME. It's all that delicious-yet-low-in-protein roughage we eat; enough to make you wish for four stomachs. Or a pasture.)

Is this how meat-eaters and speed freaks get through the day? Suddenly, a hot-dog bun with strawberry jam seems like a legitimate supper. And, even more bizarre, I haven't felt the urge to hoard little snackies for later. I've never met a vegan who doesn't hoard food. (I mean, what if we get hungry? And there's nothing around but beef?)

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