Ow. OW!
I've got a stomach ache. An honest to God, old-fashioned tummy ache. Much like the type I used to fake to get out of going to school... except this one is quite real, and it's been hammering at my insides since Sunday night. Seriously, I've tried everything, and it just won't go away. I've already ascertained that it's not gas - trapped or otherwise. (Have you ever tried to be flatulent on demand? Seriously, you could blow an eardrum that way!) Nor is it heartburn. I wondering if it could be indigestion because of my Weekend of Gluttony... but two days later? I mean... c'mon. I ate, but it's not like I feasted on a whole steer or the like. It's not like I knocked over a Godiva!
I've tried the Pepto Bismol. I've tried the Tums. I've even tried a ginger ale, because that's supposed to be the cure to any and all stomach ailments. Nothin'. Not even a hint of relief. So, what the hell? Is it bad karma? Is that what it is? Or an ulcer? Oh, God! What if I'm getting an ulcer? What if it's there, inside of me, crying for milk - which is supposedly the cure for the average ulcer - and I'm denying it what it needs because my mother always said that milk is bad for a stomach ache? I'm half wondering if all I need is to be picked up and have my back rubbed until I utter a big ol' burp?
God, that image is so bizarre, I think if I keep focussing on it, my belly ache will go away of it's own accord. The worst part is that my face, leeched of all healthy colour, has kind of frozen into wincing position. My boss pointed out both yesterday and today that I looked, 'beat up'. Lovely. Beat up. Because that's the look that gracing the runways this season, doncha know...
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In other news... because one simply can't stay in a bad mood forever, I'm going to just move past yesterday�s and the weekend's Blue Funk From The Seventh Circle of Hell, and soldier on. Ignore it. Deny it ever happened. I can do that. Bravely off I go... bad mood behind me...
Somebody WILL catch me when I fall, right?
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