So it all started with Buffalo Wild Wings Wednesday night, where my alumni club held a fundraiser. I got a sampler platter with wings dipped in a sauce that I thought wasn't spicy, but was. Moreover I got those poppers with peppers, which were also hot. I hate hot food because the food becomes less about tasting how good it is and more about fighting off the spiciness.
Then my friend, the former president, decides he's going to order desert nachos for the table. It's a huge tortilla deep-fried then sprinkled with cinnamon with four scoops of ice cream on it. Oh, and there are these cheesecake bites added to it. Each of us took a quarter. I was already stuffed by the sampler, but this dessert was good, very good. I then washed it all down by trying to deal with a hoppy beer.
The next day was not so good for me gastrointestinally. In fact my body woke me up early because it wanted to shit. So I did, though not a whole lot. It was a bunch of farting followed by cheese curd-sized feces. Went back to bed, had to get up again, and then I might as well stay up, punch in a blog post and settle my unemployment status.
It got worse once I got to work. Had to run to the bathroom three times because I got the feeling -- you know, the "gotta shit" feeling. But like in the morning, very little came out. Damn B-Dubs.
You would think that with me feeling the need to shit so much I wouldn't eat. I wasn't really hungry. But today just happened to be a chili-and-soup cook-off contest/fundraiser. Moreover, my boss was gone for a third consecutive day, so I thought that if there was an opportunity to take it easy on myself and indulge in some food, today was it. (By the way, all week someone has made free food at work. I'm starting to think my job at this place is to just eat the free food.)
But my belly took a toll. I'm stretching these khakis to the point where it's stabbing my entire torso. (Scary thing is, these used to fit me just fine last winter.) That should be a sign to take it easy. But I already put my $5 in, so let's fuckin' eat! And I had to slow down as I went through the ten pots, trying to select which soup and which chili were the best. In the afternoon I could feel the stabbing around the waistband of my pants intensify. I literally got bigger at work because of the free food.
But take a step back: With all the bathroom runs and the sneaking bites of food, I'm not really sure how hard I worked yesterday. My supervisor has to be back today, and I could totally see him checking out our stats to see if the mice played while the cat was away. And then he'll see that I did, what, 125 claims and promptly fire me on the spot. All because I ate too much food Wednesday night and Thursday afternoon. But-but-but ... I worked my ass off Wednesday!
We'll see. But I might have pushed taking it easy a little too far yesterday.
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By the way, I just checked in and jerked off to VEF. First time I logged in there in 13 days and 13 1/2 hours.
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