The Fourteen Day Soul Detox by Rita Stradling Page A

coffee. That will be up here at number one,” she
said while writing.
    “Nope, vetoed,” I said.
    “You only get one veto, you
really want to use it on coffee?” she asked.
    “Do you know me at all?”
    “Better than even you do, soul
sister,” she said. “Okay fine, I’ll put a ‘to
be decided’ by it. When’s the last time you exercised?”
    I smirked at her. “This morning.”
    “That,” she pointed at me,
“does not count. I’m talking like a run, or a Zumba class
or something.”
    “I hate those dance classes, I
can never learn the routines and I’m just stumbling into
everyone.”
    “Yoga,” she said as she
wrote it. “You can come with me to my class.”
    “You don’t go to yoga. How
come I’ve never heard of this yoga class?” I said.
    “Okay, so I’ve never
actually gone there, but I was given the brochure a couple months
ago, and I kept it because I thought sometime soon, I might actually
go. We can try it together.”
    Susan and I spent the rest of the
evening working on my detox list.

The
Fourteen Day Soul Detox

    In the next fourteen days, I plan to:

    Body

    1)
Cut back on my coffee intake.
    2)
Gain some of my weight back.
    3)
Start getting some exercise again. Yoga? Maybe.
    4)
Sleep.

    Mind

    5)
Take on my daughter’s school board.
    6)
Sell my coffee shop.
    7)
Go on a date.

    Soul

    8)
Stop wearing my wedding ring.
    9)
Spread my husband’s ashes.
    10)
Forgive the woman who killed him.
    11)
Stop sleeping with her ex-husband.

    12)
Remember what love feels like.

    13)
Be happy.

    14) (Vetoed and erased from the list.)

Day
One
    Dying
a Slow Coffee-Deprived Death

Day One: Eight O’clock

    I woke up staring at the USA 2012
Artistic Gymnastic Olympic team. The young women grinned from ear to
ear, all holding medals—three of them held two. I blinked my
heavy eyelids as I scanned the room. It was difficult untangling
myself from the purple bed sheet, but when I finally managed, I sat
up and pushed my feet into the shag carpet.
    Trudging out of Sarah’s room, I
walked to the cupboard and grabbed a mug. The coffee maker beckoned
me forward with its delicious promise of wakefulness, and I smiled.
Grabbing up the carafe I poured it over my mug.
    Nothing came out.
    I glanced at the glowing buttons
beneath on the coffee maker control panel, where the timer button was
not lit up.
    “Don’t tell me you don’t
remember,” Susan’s voice said from behind me.
    I looked over my shoulder to find her
big pregnant belly sticking out of her tank top. She folded her arms
over her chest.
    “Oh, no,” I said, my hand
going to my forehead. “I changed my mind.”
    “Nope, I don’t think so,”
she said. “Go get dressed; we’re going to the health food
store.”
    “I’m better, my soul is
detoxed. Give me my coffee,” I said.
    “Nope,” she said.
    “You’re just doing this to
me because you’re pregnant and can’t have coffee; so you
want me to suffer with you,” I said. I collapsed forward onto
the counter, laying my head on my arms.
    “Yep, that’s exactly why
I’m doing this,” she said. “I love watching you
suffer. Now go get ready.”
    “Can’t we start with a
different thing? Like, I could go eat an entire cake or go on a run
or take a nap.”
    “Nope, you have to at least start
on one task per day, going down the list in order. You can do things
early, but you can’t skip anything. Otherwise, you’ll
give up when the hard part comes. You only get one day off, and
you’ll need it later,” she said.
    “This whole thing is ridiculous,”
I said. I filled my cup with water, and then crossed to my cupboard
to retrieve my aspirin bottle.
    “If you are good, you can have
one cup of coffee before work tonight,” she said.
    After swallowing the pills, I asked,
“Why the hell did I ask for your help?”
    “Because you finally actually
wanted help, and not a pat on the back,” she said.
    Laughing, I said, “You are so
mean.”
    “Get dressed, I’ll