Thursday, April 2, 2009

my stomach dropped.

[I wrote this at my mom's house. On the toilet. Round Two. While I had food poisoning. On Wednesday. It was not fun. But I made it fun. By writing a story. Enjoy. A little bit (evil laughter).]

Am I going to make it? MY GAWD PLEASE LET ME MAKE IT! I yelled aloud in my car. Driving down Chapman doing 60 on a 45, the cold anxiety filled sweats were intensifying. I didn't know if I was going to make it. Oh Gawd, Oh Gawd.


There's nothing worse then some a-hole changing lanes and positioning themselves in front of you for NO REASON and driving well below the flow of traffic, or posted speed for that matter. On a normal day I would be able to tolerate this, but tonight? Tonight I was in jeopardy of not making it. NOT MAKING IT PEOPLE! Big deal. My stomach was threatening me and I feel like any minute I could explode- I was SO not going to wait behind this butt (hahaha BUTT). I did a rapid lane change, waving my hands in an urgent manner as I zipped by the other car, and I turned down the radio that I had previously been jamming to. I for sure did not want to "just dance" or "get low" at the moment- I needed calm.

What's the source of this sudden change in...feeling? Was it the little Caesar's Cheesy Bread I ate with my sister earlier taking a turn for the worse? It was a little greasy, but they were SO good. Perhaps it was the cafe mocha I just drank? Bad milk? Is it stemming from the emotion that was being risen from the conversation I had just had? nervous poop? I was unsure, but I was sure that I needed to get home. I needed to get home quick. Havoc was soon to be released with the aid of my mother's sacred toilet.

Turning into the residential street I almost hit one biker that was riding without a reflector in the dark, and two cats that were sitting on top of a sewer lid absorbing the heat that was rising out of it. "AAAAGGGHHHH!" Finally I pulled up to my mom's house, and ran to the door with keys in hand. Jiggling the keys in the door locks, I heard my mother yell out asking who it was.

"It is I mother! Your second and most favorite child!" I hollered back to her. All the while clenching, fighting the cold sweats, trying with all my might to remain calm, to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Relief was coming. The door unlocked,I swung it open, and glanced to the right. My mom knew the look.

"Are you pulling a Vicky?" (Vicky is the aunt that goes to my grandma's house for sudden BMs)
"Unfortunately so." Laughter could be heard as I rushed into the restroom, turned on the vent and got to business. Thankfully there was a good collection of Reader's Digest to keep me company. I would have brought the dog with me, but it would be too selfish to make him sit through that. It was agony I tell you.

A few minutes later I emerged feeling recomposed, a new person. A better person. More calm, poised and well-mannered. I felt much, MUCH better.

"Much, thank you."

There's nothing more worse than having that sudden change know. When it is like something from the inside taking you for ransom, holding you at a whim. It's no fun being captive to yourself.


I'm glad I made it. I'm not eating cheesy bread for awhile.

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