Tuesday, October 24, 2006

The Breakup Diaries: Day 6

Gravol-comas and 8:30 classes do not mix well. That is the lesson I learned on day 6. My alarm went off at 7 (ya…I’m high maintenance…that’s fancy-talk for hot, jerks) and I’m pretty sure I died a little. With gravol flowing through my veins, I rolled over and grunted. The kitten started purring like a machine and settled on my chest. I was still half in my dream about being a contestant on “The Bachelor: Rome” (I’m not even attracted to that weasel-faced douche, but hey – action is action). The gravol within was fighting valiantly…

ThePeach: But…class…
ThePeach: …wanna…learn….get…good marks….
ThePeach:…go…to…grad school...
ThePeach: …leave Universitytown….and FauxHawk…forever…
ThePeach:…oh…Bachelor-Rome…how can I ever thank you…for the diamonds and gold…and the Korean slaves…

I’m officially off the gravol diet starting tonight.

After class (which I slept in), I felt the pangs of a familiar old lover: hunger. For the first time in 6 days! Rejoice! Although secretly I was a little upset that I would no longer be getting skinny as a result of the heartbreak. Stupid bodily survival instincts – you ruin everything!

I decided to celebrate my return to solid food with a Tim Horton’s Breakfast Sandwich.

Now, here’s some advice from ThePeach:

When you haven’t eaten solid food in 6 days, it’s probably not wise to start with a sandwich whose contents include a gelatinous egg-unit pulled out of a drawer filled with other gelatinous egg-units. Maybe start with some crackers or something. The egg-unit? A poor choice. Unless you like intestinal rot. In which case I know where there’s an entire drawer of gelatinous egg-units!

After the egg-unit incident, things were pretty mundane and blah. I fucked around on the internet for 4 hours, felt sorry for myself, until…


Sweet mother of Christ, yes. My friend, OfficeMate, surprised me and borrowed 2 teeny little baby puppies from a friend for an hour in the afternoon. I talked in an obnoxious high-pitched baby-voice the entire time. I wanted to punch myself in the mouth but it was still awesome. I smiled. I cradled teeny, shivering puppies. My uterus quivered. All was well for 1 hour. Best therapy ever.

And, because I am in an oddly giving mood, I want to share the good feeling with you:

Also, I wanted to post a picture of my knockers.



theHubby said...

what is that I'm feeling....is it..*gasp* JOY?!?! Puppies! yeay! I want one so I can remember what it feels like to be loved!

OfficeMate said...

I don't blame you for talking in baby-voice...they are just too darn adorable! You should pose those pictures with you making pouty lips. :)