Showing posts with label barf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label barf. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Proud Moment

5 COOOOOOMMENTS! Now you speak up!
Okay, I am supposed to be cleaning the house because I am a PigSlob who is:
  1. messy
  2. cluttered
  3. mildly hoarding-like
  4. easily distracted
  5. what was I saying?
  6. Oh yeah....
  7. hey! something shiny! (focus, dammit, this is Wal-mart and the nose leash all over again)
  8. painfully addicted to the internet
  9. unable to throw perfectly good things out (see No. 3)
  10. incapable of properly organizing donations of things (and I feel guilty asking those certain ones to come to my door - it costs them gas money so how is that helping?)
  11. don't know where to send perfectly good toiletries I haven't opened or don't want any more (even women's shelters around here won't accept them) which sends me back to No. 9.
  12. indecisive, often stopping myself before I start, especially with tasks like this
  13. quick to get frustrated/impatient and want to give up
Okay, I'm done making that stupid list. It's depressing (see No. 13).

Anywho, I had a proud moment today. Thought I would share it with you all so you can once again say "I'm so happy I don't have her life".

I have still been losing weight (and hair) and now I am getting pain in my teeth. The latest (racist and incompetent) dietitian told me to try to ignore the 'BANNED' or 'CHEAT' list and start eating more foods because I am simply not getting proper nutrition.

SO you know what my wonderful idea was today? Why not lure a co-worker to come to the PIZZA.Freakin'.HUT.Lunch.BUFFET. And I lured. And we went. And I ATE beyotches. I ate like it was the last supper, or.. well... the first good lunch I have had in a loooooong time.

What? Not a good idea?


I ate 8 pieces of veggie pizza, and 2 pieces of dessert pizza. Oh, and 2 bread sticks for good measure.

C'mon! Those are SMALL pieces. (Note, all but the onions and tomatoes are on the banned list in my irritant-free, G.I.-friendly diet).

I returned to work. The cramps worsened. The nausea bloomed. But I expected that. Tomorrow will be rough. But I signed up for it, so suck it up, right?

I had to return a bunch of bathroom items from the renovation (I seriously took back 5 shower curtains, among about 25 other things - have I mentioned I hate making returns yet do it all the time? See No. 12 - indecisive).

I pulled into the mall parking lot after successfully stopping and returning stuff at 2 stores. And I felt it. After 7 months of vomiting daily in 2009, there was no mistaking what was coming next.

I was in a freshly paved, non-porous asphalt parking lot. There was no storm drain nearby. Even if there was, I wouldn't have made it in time.

SO the vomiting commenced. Leaning out of my driver's side door, trying to simultaneously keep the door open enough to not puke IN the car, closed enough I had a shred of a veil/cover from the public in the lot, keep my damn sweater cowl neck from becoming a strainer, and hold my stupid brown/purple terrible-multi-length-cut-hair from becoming entangled in the drama in front of me.

What a proud moment.

Thought I was done.

I wasn't.

Image Credit


In... uhhh.. unrelated news - Did you know that asphalt is really hard? That things can BOUNCE back upwards if shot downwards with enough force?

Yeah... my last post about the spa lost me two followers (that's 12%! How depressing is that?!). I figure this post should clear out at least 5 more.

But this is my life. This is the glory and the glamour. This is the frustration, the hunger, the lack of portion-control. This is my body telling me to eff.right.off. I still had to make returns to 3 more stores, on shaky legs. I popped an organic, all natural, sugar and sweetener-free mint, cleaned up with a napkin, and had to forge ahead.


"Hi..... I'm here to look legitimate and mature and make some returns. Mmmmkay? What? Something on my face?"


Maybe it was really just triggered because two of my co-workers were egging me on when Bublé came on the radio before I left. One even started singing. Then playing it on his computer. Loud enough to enrage me (so, simply audible I guess).

I say it's Bublé's fault.

Too bad I couldn't explain that to the lady beside me in the line at Winners... who kept inching further and further away from me...

Gotta go clean. BF's folks are coming into town and I have to deal with Nos. 1 through 13 now.


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