Before bible study today, a friend sat with me for a moment holding a paper bag. She said, “I brought these for you.” I took the bag and looked inside. There were three beautiful, succulent, red, inviting tomatoes in her bag. But I knew that if I took them, I would have to eat them. There was no way they’d last till the end of my fast. So I told her that I’m fasting. She asked, “How long?” I said, “Forty days.” Her smile disappeared. She had once been a nurse and was now a dental hygienist. She appeared to assume the worst about my situation. “We’ll talk. I’ve gotta go.”

A man in my Fred group came up to me then. I asked how he was. “Fine. But how are *you*?” He gave me a big hug, as if concerned for my health.

This evening I was visiting a friend to play cards. While we played cards at her dining room table, I looked into her kitchen and saw an onion. I had a momentary desire to eat the onion. When I told her of my desire to eat the onion, she laughed and said, “That’s really sad.” This was the same woman I watched eat ice cream yesterday.

I really am fine. People don’t need to worry about my health. About the only thing negative I can say about this fast is that it’s making me irritable. I sent an email to a friend that I wish I could take back, an email that revealed personal feelings that I didn’t need to reveal.

During the day I fantasized about pizza. It’s irrational, because I am not overly hungry, but I’m having thoughts about food. Now that I’m done with Day 8, I’m a fifth of the way through the fast. But I still have four fifths of the time remaining.