In one of the few fantasies I allow myself, I find myself alone on a tropical island.
No meals to prepare, no homework patrol, no house to clean. No demands.
I have no need for clothes, because it is warm. My shelter is a lean-to that I have built. Food is not a problem because I am surrounded by fruits and vegetation — all the pineapple, papaya, mangoes, bananas, coconuts and green stuff I can eat. What more could a person need or want?
We shall see.
At least one part of my fantasy is about to become reality. While I wish we were about to embark on a journey to a yet-to-be discovered island, that’s not the story my colleague Joann pitched to our bosses, so I’ll have to settle for eating as though I were there. I’m not sure why I agreed to eating a raw diet for 30 days. Maybe as a wife for 25 years and mother of two teens, I’m looking for a new adventure or challenge.
For the past year or so, I’ve been on a fitness kick, exercising more, eating better and less. I’m sure to lose weight, and what 52-year-old menopausal woman wouldn’t welcome being a few pounds lighter going into summer?
That way, I’ll look great when I finally get stranded on that island. And I’ll be used to the food.