Allow me to begin with a brief recounting of how, this morning, I was certain I was about to realize my recent fears of sudden unemployment. I was attempting to look up some records in the client database, since, as I�ve previously established, I�m such an exemplary employee. But, when I went to open the files, I found they are now password protected. This would not be such a big deal, except that no one had bothered to inform me that such a failsafe would be going into effect, much less teach me the password. In a sense, it felt like I�d shown up for work and found my name had been scraped off the door and my key no longer fit the lock But then I emailed Sophie and she gave me the password, so all�s well that ends well, I guess.
Except for the addendum that goes ��except when all ends in horrific bouts of food poisoning�. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it would appear that I ate something tonight that did not agree with me. Actually, to say it did not agree with me would be charitable. Whatever I ate hates me so much that it�s sucker-punching my pancreas as I sit here, doubled over in front of the computer.
We had a lovely dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Santa Monica, to commemorate the natal days of our friends S and R, and things seemed to be going quite well. There was sashimi and chicken, and more chicken, and some beef and some shrimp (all cooked)(well, except the sashimi, obviously), and then some delectable dessert! And then some less-delectable, stabbing, crippling stomach pains. You know, the kind where your knees give out, goosebumps break out on your arms, and your vision goes all blurry for a second while you pray in earnest for God to take you out of the game. The kind where, moments later, an alien hatchling erupts through your abdominal wall and eats all of your friends. Those stomach pains.
So I made a hasty exit, hoping to get home before my dinner decided to make a hasty exit of its own (and, not to be indelicate, but I wasn�t quite certain which door it was going to use), which proved to be slightly more difficult that it would seem on paper. Or, on pixels, as the case may be. In any case, I made it to the car, and I peeled away from the curb like a man possessed, but I was only about halfway home when my comestible passengers first threatened to disembark in mid-transit.
Luckily, I made it home, but it was as I was parking that Satan�s icy claw tore into the pit of my stomach again and squeezed until my hands started shaking and I lost my breath. Needless to say, I haven�t spent much time on this side of the bathroom door since I made it back inside.
Anyway, I won�t go into all the gory details, but suffice it to say that I�m no longer feeling guilty about the dessert I indulged in after dinner. I doubt it was in residence long enough to do any damage.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: �debase herself� And: �Zach Braff� girls dating I�m Watching: Jake 2.0, which stars the first TV boyfriend I ever had, not counting Zack Morris of Saved By the Bell. I�m Craving: I was craving a chocolate chip cookie, but, well�right now I�d kill for a diet coke, to sooth the savage beast stomping around in my digestive tract.