After four solid days eating nothing but Soylent, Saturday dawned. I awoke feeling about the same as I had the day before and the day before that. I didn’t feel particularly incredible, but I didn’t feel bad either. Coffee led to my morning Soylent, which was from yesterday’s blue batch. I had plenty left to get me through the day—it looked like about half the pitcher remained.
I had a half-formed plan in my mind though. Perhaps, just perhaps, I could stretch this pitcher through to dinner. Because if I could make this bit of Soylent last all day, I’d have one full, unopened, shiny plastic pouch left. My friends and I were all supposed to gather at Matt’s house for Labor Day, and rather than showing up with steak and hamburgers to grill—well, I could show up with Soylent. I could make all of them drink it. It would be a Very Soylent Labor Day.
The final countdown
As much as I’d like to have some grand crazy story to wrap up my final day of Soylenting, things were uneventful. My poo continued to look like a preschooler’s art project, but that’s more because of my dabbling with food coloring than anything the actual Soylent was doing. The gas pretty much disappeared. The chalkiness still got to me, but I started adding more and more water to my mug-sized servings, and that cut the chalk right out.
I didn’t bleed out of all of my orifices, I didn’t go into hyper- or hypoglycemic shock, and I didn’t combust. I finished the pitcher for dinner, smacked my lips, and tossed all my Soylent implements into the dishwasher. Later that evening, I ate my first piece of food in five days: a banana. (It was late and I wasn’t super hungry.)

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