one month into carnivore and i’m still amazed

So, I started this carnivore diet a month ago. Honestly, didn’t think I’d make it past the first week without caving in to a slice of bread or sneaking a spoon of peanut butter. But here I am, a month later, still chewing on pieces of steak and contemplating life choices. Bacon, by the way, has become the love of my life. There’s something almost romantic about crispy strips on a morning plate.

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I swear, my fridge looks like something out of a survivalist handbook. Just packs and packs of beef, chicken, and some mystery meats that I might have bought during a blackout (or boredom). Did I mention the weird dreams? No joke, I’ve been dreaming about veggies lounging around in fancy hats asking me why I’ve abandoned them. Kind of creepy when you think about it.

Anyway, energy levels are… surprisingly decent? I mean, I thought I’d be crawling to my coffee maker in tears. But no, I have this bizarre, steady energy. Not bouncy or anything, just there. Maybe it’s the sheer power of sticking to a weird diet. Oh, and you wouldn’t believe how my grocery store trips have turned into strategic meat hunts.

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The oddest part? I’ve started creating these carnivorous recipes that somehow don’t feel like I’m betraying my long-lost pasta dreams. It’s like an art form. Grilling is now my new Zen practice. Seriously, hearing the sizzle can either feel like an accomplishment or just a solid reminder that I’m now the friend who’s ‘super into meat.’ Torn between shame and culinary pride here.

Do I miss carbs? Oh, absolutely. My relationship with doughnuts is on thin ice. But the question is more like, will this gusto for pure protein last long enough to call it a complete lifestyle switch or just another chapter in my kaleidoscope diet diary? Only time will tell. For now, I’m eyeing that ribeye in the fridge with a sense of bizarre satisfaction. My eyes still hurt. I need coffee. Ugh.