You Know You Are a Raw Foodist When…
… your microwave oven has been converted into a sprout and herb garden.
… you can’t remember the last time you visited the “other side” of the grocery store.
… you measure the time since your last illness in decades.
… you spend more time thinking about digestion than sex.
… you consume your own body weight in less than a month.
… you believe that $5 is a fair price for a 3-oz piece of chocolate.
… you feel confident that you could survive on Gilligan’s Island — and you know you can make a better coconut cream pie than Mary Ann.
… your diet is a combination of the diets of bonobos, cows, and plankton.
… you can identify every item in the produce section.
… the grocery checker has to look up the codes for half of your items; the other half she must ask you to identify.
… you gladly offer to “help out” any friends with fertility problems; they decline because they just want one baby, not a litter.
… you fantasize about a raw foods version of Costco.
… you store produce in your oven.
… you’ve turned down lunch invites for logistical reasons.
… your blender costs more than your car (and has a better warranty).
… you own functional kitchen equipment made of bamboo.
… you weight train by grocery shopping.
… your last remaining addiction is a bean.
… you spell juice fasting with an extra e.
… you don’t believe in pre-detox sex.
… you can make a salad from your backyard, even if you don’t have a garden.
… you know how to cure cancer, heart disease, and diabetes… but no one believes you.
… something in your kitchen is currently underwater.
… you know the difference between raw and really raw when it comes to foods like almonds, tahini, and agave nectar.
… it disturbs you when people start talking about really, really raw.
… you want to try solar gazing soon.
… you refer to the Food Network as the Horror Channel.
… your diet helps restore the hearing you lost from using your blender.
… you call yourself a chef and/or coach even though you’ve never been to school for either.
… you know what Cassandra felt like.
… your first name is an emotion, an adjective, or an insect.
… you shop for clothes in the children’s section.
… your bathroom is devoid of reading material.
… vegans ask you, “But where do you get your protein?” (Some things never change.)
… you qualify potential dating partners based on their level of toxicity.
… your job title begins with the words raw, eco, or alternative.
… your health care practitioner’s job title ends in -path or -ist.
… your crackers cost more than $1 per ounce.
… you meet a breatharian and have to ask, “But where do you get your protein?”
… your breakfast smoothies contain items from six continents, four oceans, and a volcano.