My son, the tapeworm
I'm not sure I'm pregnant. Perhaps I just have a giant tapeworm. Let me tell you why.
I'm FREAKING HUNGRY! ALWAYS! Without exception, I am always hungry! It's ridiculous.
This morning, Tim stood at the foot of the bed and wiggled my foot with his hand-- I love that, for some reason-- and said, "Bayyyybeeeee. Would you make me some breffist while I get ready for work?" He doesn't allllways have to ask for breakfast (or breffist) because sometimes I wake up earlier than him and am just in the mood. And sometimes he doesn't get breakfast at all, because I sleep through breffist making time. As a teacher, I have the right to sleep to ungodly hours during the months of June and July, right? Damn right. This morning I was perfectly content to sleep, but I got up anyway because I knew we were out of cereal, so his other options were limited, and I can't send my man off to a twelve hour shift on an empty stomach.
Anyway, digressions aside, once I got up and started the coffee maker (which is going to burn my house down any day now, by the way) I realized that I was starving, so I was glad I'd gotten up to cook for the man. Usually I am not hungry for the first hour of the day. Don't ask me why; I just don't get hungry until I've been up a while. Even if I am kind of hungry, I don't like to eat until I've been showered and what not. It's just one of my weirdnesses.
So I fried some bacon, scrambled some eggs, and sliced a tomato-- a tomato that came from Florida and hopefully will not kill Tim. It's not gonna kill me because I still haven't gotten brave enough to eat tomatoes. I scarfed down my two fried eggs-- over easy with runny yolk-- with a dab of strawberry preserves and three slices of bacon while Tim made a bacon/egg/cheese/tomato sandwich out of his scrambled eggs. I washed it down with two cups of half-caff Community dark roast. Yum.
I was satisfied, and came to my campout spot in the living room to play on the internet (which is what I do 10 hours a day now) while Tim finished getting ready for work. He left about 30 minutes later. An hour after that, I was hungry again.
For a while, I fought the urge to eat something else. I held it at bay for another hour or so by drinking a glass of Diet Dr. Pepper, but it won out, and I ate two slices of leftover pizza.
Fast forward another hour. I'm hungry again. Really hungry. Hungry enough that my stomach was growling, so it's not like it was just a mental thing. So I fought it off a while longer, then got up and ate two handfuls of grapes. No deal. The hunger persisted.
Throwing grapes at the fury in my stomach was like throwing rocks at King Kong, so I decided to break out the big guns. I went to the pantry and got a can of tamales, a can of corn, and a can of green beans. I ate almost all the tamales with a slice of melted cheese, plus two giant servings of the beans and corn.
I was satisfied.
Fast forward another hour. That brings us to now. Guess what? I'm hungry. Fuck it--I'm going to Sonic!
This kid better be sucking up all these calories, or I'm going to be fat for the rest of my life. Real fat.
I'm FREAKING HUNGRY! ALWAYS! Without exception, I am always hungry! It's ridiculous.
This morning, Tim stood at the foot of the bed and wiggled my foot with his hand-- I love that, for some reason-- and said, "Bayyyybeeeee. Would you make me some breffist while I get ready for work?" He doesn't allllways have to ask for breakfast (or breffist) because sometimes I wake up earlier than him and am just in the mood. And sometimes he doesn't get breakfast at all, because I sleep through breffist making time. As a teacher, I have the right to sleep to ungodly hours during the months of June and July, right? Damn right. This morning I was perfectly content to sleep, but I got up anyway because I knew we were out of cereal, so his other options were limited, and I can't send my man off to a twelve hour shift on an empty stomach.
Anyway, digressions aside, once I got up and started the coffee maker (which is going to burn my house down any day now, by the way) I realized that I was starving, so I was glad I'd gotten up to cook for the man. Usually I am not hungry for the first hour of the day. Don't ask me why; I just don't get hungry until I've been up a while. Even if I am kind of hungry, I don't like to eat until I've been showered and what not. It's just one of my weirdnesses.
So I fried some bacon, scrambled some eggs, and sliced a tomato-- a tomato that came from Florida and hopefully will not kill Tim. It's not gonna kill me because I still haven't gotten brave enough to eat tomatoes. I scarfed down my two fried eggs-- over easy with runny yolk-- with a dab of strawberry preserves and three slices of bacon while Tim made a bacon/egg/cheese/tomato sandwich out of his scrambled eggs. I washed it down with two cups of half-caff Community dark roast. Yum.
I was satisfied, and came to my campout spot in the living room to play on the internet (which is what I do 10 hours a day now) while Tim finished getting ready for work. He left about 30 minutes later. An hour after that, I was hungry again.
For a while, I fought the urge to eat something else. I held it at bay for another hour or so by drinking a glass of Diet Dr. Pepper, but it won out, and I ate two slices of leftover pizza.
Fast forward another hour. I'm hungry again. Really hungry. Hungry enough that my stomach was growling, so it's not like it was just a mental thing. So I fought it off a while longer, then got up and ate two handfuls of grapes. No deal. The hunger persisted.
Throwing grapes at the fury in my stomach was like throwing rocks at King Kong, so I decided to break out the big guns. I went to the pantry and got a can of tamales, a can of corn, and a can of green beans. I ate almost all the tamales with a slice of melted cheese, plus two giant servings of the beans and corn.
I was satisfied.
Fast forward another hour. That brings us to now. Guess what? I'm hungry. Fuck it--I'm going to Sonic!
This kid better be sucking up all these calories, or I'm going to be fat for the rest of my life. Real fat.
Well, look on the bright side. I'm not pregnant, and I promise Ive gained 10 lbs since Christmas. I'm disgusted with my fat self.
Brenda
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Anonymous |
9:13 PM