Does anyone need a stomach? You can have mine.
I've considered myself lucky that my stomach and I have had a really great relationship until lately. I've never had food poisoning before and only become lactose intolerant around that special time of the month.
I could feed my stomach the worst shit and we'd keep on ticking. Anything I craved and my stomach obliged.
Until Lake Tahoe...
this is beyond the cheese now. It's been four days! I seriously better have lost 5 lbs this week, that's all I'm saying.
Today I went to work and then I came straight back home because hitting up the office ladies room every three minutes was not fun. Oy. Am I allowed to talk about this, here? Do you mind?
The pain comes in waves. Like every 10 minutes or so, my stomach hardens up and then cramps the living crap out of me. And then, after the pain, comes the bathroom.
I didn't mind being at home at all today. Wendy Williams has her own daytime talk show - how come I didn't know this? And I got to catch up with The View - even though when they start talking sex...ew, ew, ew. I just get scared when I have to hear about Barbara and Elizabeth's sex lives. Like, Elizabeth doesn't own or need a vibrator. Did we need to know that? And her hair is way too blonde or her eye make up was way too heavy, something.
So, yeah I chilled at home on a Gatorade diet. Growing up, I never knew what Gatorade was, my parents never bought it. I remember seeing and tasting my first Gatorade in college. It was the hangover drink of choice for my friends, so I decided to see what the deal was - YUCK.
I cannot stand the taste of Gatorade. But I endured it today. It was Dr. Mom's advice, so I did.
Thinking now since there should be absolutely nothing solid in me after a day of drinking that crap, I should be able to tolerate work tomorrow.
Oh, oh, oh: Project Runway! WTF. I was so under-impressed that only one designer chose a food to incorporate into their design. And what's up with Blayne? Is he trying to be the new Christian making up his own words? Girlicious?!?! Puh-leeze.