In 37 minutes I will be stuffing my face with cottage cheese drenched in a can of mandarin oranges and man, will it feel good. So good, in fact, that I will probably feel more satisfied than the guy who won the Ironman Sunday.
I know it sounds a bit strange to derive such uninhibited pleasure from something as simple as a tub of cottage cheese, but then again, you didn't go vegan for a week. That's right-a whole seven days with no meat, no poultry, no seafood, no fish, no dairy, no honey and no gelatin. So what does that leave me with, you ask? Pretty much nothing but lethargy and an empty stomach.
Tuesday, 7 p.m.: I have already spent $17 buying a tofu sandwich from Electric Earth and an order of Pad Thai (sans egg) from Sai Bai Thong. Being a vegan is expensive!
Wednesday 1:15, p.m.: A peanut butter sandwich eaten earlier just did not do it for me. I venture to Ingraham Deli in hopes of finding a good snack. The place was completely picked over, which left me no choice but to buy an Odwalla Nutritional drink for $3.
Wednesday 5:45, p.m.: I can't stop fantasizing about food. I already feel as though I would sell my soul for a basket of deep-fried cheese curds. In the spirit of Wisconsin, I try a Boca Bratwurst that a friend left in my freezer. It was about as tasty as a rusty door knob. It's time for another Electric Earth tofu sandwich.
Thursday 10:20, p.m.: I decide to finally do some quality grocery shopping, seeing as the money in my wallet is diminishing by the second. I find myself wandering aimlessly in Sentry's grocery store with nothing more than a container of hummus in my cart.
Saturday, 2:30 a.m.: I succumbed to a piece of greasy pizza after a late night at the bars. Does throwing it up an hour later negate the fact that I ate it?
Sunday, 6:30 p.m.: I met a friend at Electric Earth for dinner. I perused the menu hoping to find an alternative to the \Tofu You"" sandwich but to no avail, at which point my friend asked ""Have you tried the tofu sandwich?"" Yep, guess what I ended up ordering.
Monday, 5:25 p.m.: I just ate the millionth peanut butter sandwich of the week. It is only a matter of time before this hell on earth comes to an end. How do vegans do it?
Well, it is now officially midnight, signifying the end to my short-lived veganism. If you'll excuse me, I have important business to tend to that involves a large spoon and curdled milk.
Kat is a senior majoring in psychology and can be reached at krpeterson@wisc.edu.
