I'll probably think this is funny later
Okay, so. This whole pregnancy thing? I don't mean to just keep bitching and complaining, but...that's what I'm going to do.
I am losing my mind, people. I have never been this sick for this long, nor this tired, and I have never been so miserable about food and it's seriously starting to mess with my head and OH MY WORD, DUDES, you have no idea how close I am to donning three pounds of eyeliner and scrawling the lyrics to every Nine Inch Nails song ever on the walls because I haven't really properly enjoyed anything I've put in my mouth for almost two months. *wails* I was watching "Ratatouille" the other day and I actually started crying at the part where the mean food critic takes a bite of his meal and he loves it and it makes him think of the day he hurt his knee and his mom made him the same thing to eat and patted him on the head, and it wasn't a weird pregnant-girl-cries-at-movie moment, it wasn't even an I'm-going-to-be-a-parent-and-have-someone-to-comfort-with-food-soon thing, I just wanted to enjoy food again so badly and maybe have my mom pat me on the head and make me feel better. I just do not know how to deal with a world in which I hate food and food hates me. We have never quarreled before, food and I. We have been inseparable since the day I learned how to stir-fry. Come back and love me again, food!
Sorry if that was maybe a little intense. I haven't been this emo in a really long time. I know this is all supposed to go away in about a week (please, dear God let it be no longer than a week) but right now "just one more week" sounds a lot like "just another brief ETERNITY" to me.
Like I said: LOSING my MIND. *makes crazy-in-the-head gestures around own cranium* So if I haven't left a lot of comments or returned a lot of e-mails recently, it's because I'm sort of concerned that I'll start out "That's an interesting point you make about blah blah blah..." then descend almost instantly into a fit of madness where I type out the entire lyrical spread of "Pretty Hate Machine" with the word "food" stuck in every few lines at random. I figure no one needs that.
(Oh, and thank you to the people who said Lemonheads helped. They do. I may have sort of abused them, judging by the burned spot on the roof of my mouth, but hey. They make the nausea go away, however briefly! *throws them at the nausea*)
(Also, I forgot to wear antiperspirant today for the first time since adolescence. I just thought you should know.)
I am losing my mind, people. I have never been this sick for this long, nor this tired, and I have never been so miserable about food and it's seriously starting to mess with my head and OH MY WORD, DUDES, you have no idea how close I am to donning three pounds of eyeliner and scrawling the lyrics to every Nine Inch Nails song ever on the walls because I haven't really properly enjoyed anything I've put in my mouth for almost two months. *wails* I was watching "Ratatouille" the other day and I actually started crying at the part where the mean food critic takes a bite of his meal and he loves it and it makes him think of the day he hurt his knee and his mom made him the same thing to eat and patted him on the head, and it wasn't a weird pregnant-girl-cries-at-movie moment, it wasn't even an I'm-going-to-be-a-parent-and-have-someone-to-comfort-with-food-soon thing, I just wanted to enjoy food again so badly and maybe have my mom pat me on the head and make me feel better. I just do not know how to deal with a world in which I hate food and food hates me. We have never quarreled before, food and I. We have been inseparable since the day I learned how to stir-fry. Come back and love me again, food!
Sorry if that was maybe a little intense. I haven't been this emo in a really long time. I know this is all supposed to go away in about a week (please, dear God let it be no longer than a week) but right now "just one more week" sounds a lot like "just another brief ETERNITY" to me.
Like I said: LOSING my MIND. *makes crazy-in-the-head gestures around own cranium* So if I haven't left a lot of comments or returned a lot of e-mails recently, it's because I'm sort of concerned that I'll start out "That's an interesting point you make about blah blah blah..." then descend almost instantly into a fit of madness where I type out the entire lyrical spread of "Pretty Hate Machine" with the word "food" stuck in every few lines at random. I figure no one needs that.
(Oh, and thank you to the people who said Lemonheads helped. They do. I may have sort of abused them, judging by the burned spot on the roof of my mouth, but hey. They make the nausea go away, however briefly! *throws them at the nausea*)
(Also, I forgot to wear antiperspirant today for the first time since adolescence. I just thought you should know.)