I am really, really glad I have tomorrow off.
Ugh. Yesterday, as victory at getting my first paycheck, I got dinner from the Noodle Canteen, which I loved like burning when I was in Wellington. Meat! Vegetables! Noodles! Sauce! Wok-tossed in front of you and served in proper sitcom Chinese takeaway boxes! Apparently the standards are slightly different at the Napier Noodle Canteen, however: it was still magically delicious (although extra-greasy), but when I went to bed four hours later it was with a headache and horrible stomach pains.
They were still very much there when I got up this morning, and made work all that much more fun. It was that horrible thing where I couldn't tell whether my stomach hurt because of food poisoning or because it was empty or both. Since I was pretty sure it wouldn't make me puke (heart and stomach of a concrete elephant, etc. etc.), I erred on the side of not going crazy from low blood sugar, and tried eating something equally magically delicious: pie. It went something like this:
Me: Come on, it's pie. Look! Apple and blackberry! Smothered with cinnamon! There is no greater breakfast that does not involve bacon. ENJOY IT.
Stomach: No, shut up, go away, oh God let me die. D:
Me: Look, Mouth is into it! Aren't you, Mouth?
Mouth: Yay! Pie! I'm pretty sure not even bacon could improve this! :D
Stomach: FUCK HIM, HE GOT US INTO THIS.
Me: This is for your own good, you know. It's either this or you turn inside out and tie yourself in knots when the hunger really sets in.
Stomach: Oh really? Shall we talk to Intestines about this?
Intestines: *turn inside out and tie themselves in knots*
Me: Screw you both, I am eating it anyway.
Stomach: You're going to regret it.
[Hours later]
Me: *regretting it*
Thankfully my day was short, so I came home and went to bed. Five hours later, I crawled out of bed feeling like I had been beaten all over with sticks. I have had a long hot shower and two ibuprofen and am feeling marginally better, but not better enough to go out and buy milk and solid food. Which I need to. Very soon.
D:
They were still very much there when I got up this morning, and made work all that much more fun. It was that horrible thing where I couldn't tell whether my stomach hurt because of food poisoning or because it was empty or both. Since I was pretty sure it wouldn't make me puke (heart and stomach of a concrete elephant, etc. etc.), I erred on the side of not going crazy from low blood sugar, and tried eating something equally magically delicious: pie. It went something like this:
Me: Come on, it's pie. Look! Apple and blackberry! Smothered with cinnamon! There is no greater breakfast that does not involve bacon. ENJOY IT.
Stomach: No, shut up, go away, oh God let me die. D:
Me: Look, Mouth is into it! Aren't you, Mouth?
Mouth: Yay! Pie! I'm pretty sure not even bacon could improve this! :D
Stomach: FUCK HIM, HE GOT US INTO THIS.
Me: This is for your own good, you know. It's either this or you turn inside out and tie yourself in knots when the hunger really sets in.
Stomach: Oh really? Shall we talk to Intestines about this?
Intestines: *turn inside out and tie themselves in knots*
Me: Screw you both, I am eating it anyway.
Stomach: You're going to regret it.
[Hours later]
Me: *regretting it*
Thankfully my day was short, so I came home and went to bed. Five hours later, I crawled out of bed feeling like I had been beaten all over with sticks. I have had a long hot shower and two ibuprofen and am feeling marginally better, but not better enough to go out and buy milk and solid food. Which I need to. Very soon.
D: