So okay, I know Halloween has passed and everything, but this post is going to get a little freaky.
It all started today at work. It was a great morning. I woke up early and did the New York Time’s 7 min. workout. Okay so maybe I did like 4 of the 7 minutes but still, pretty good huh?
At work I was jamming away. We’re going to be hosting a contest in December and part of the prize is a donation to your choice of one of the charities we’ve researched. I was jazzed about finding charities that I’m really interested in and was pounding out copy like it was my job – which it is so that’s really good.
As you can see, today was one of those Thursdays that really makes you think hey! I can’t wait till I can look back at this Thursday and say #tbt to a good one.
Then as so famously said in 10 Things I Hate About You “The shiteth hiteth the fan…eth.”
For those of you who don’t speak Shakespeare THE SHIT HIT THE FAN.
It was lunch time and I was eating what I always eat – soup. Split Pea to be exact.
But out of the corner of my eye I saw to my delight chips and salsa. I am a big fan of chips and salsa.
My co-worker saw the gleam in my eye and offered me some. BUT he warned that the salsa was extremely spicy. I said “no worries” I totally LOVE spicy foods. The spicier the better. Boy did I ever over-estimate myself.
The first bite was fine. I enjoyed it. Sure, my upper lip started to sweat, but that happens if I have to make a phone call to a stranger (I am a really nervous person) so I wasn’t that worried.
SO when my co-worker said that he was too full to finish all the chips and salsa, I was the FIRST to volunteer to eat the rest. “ME!” I cried joyously and sprung over to his side of the table. Using the chip as a ladle, I scooped first one heaping mouth-full of the salsa and then another.
mmmmmm I thought this sure is tasty.
Then…
I felt the harsh fire piercing its way over my tongue. My nose started to run and my tear glands opened streaming down salty water as my body tried to expel the demon from its innards. It was no use. I couldn’t stop the tears.
But it doesn’t end there.
If I haven’t talked about this before I’ll be very surprised. I have stomach issues. Like major ones. Like I couldn’t eat anything besides soup for an entire summer. Maybe it was the best diet I’ve ever had, but a girl realllllyyyyy starts to miss chewing after a while.
ANYWAY this attack from the spiciest salsa I have eaten did not give me heart burn like it would a normal person. NOPE. It went straight for my very own achilles’ heel. MY STOMACH.
AND IT’S STILL HERE.
Now, I’m convinced that there is actually a demon in my belly because I must have eaten like 14 Tums and drank about a gallon of alka seltzer (like I could have put a 80-year-old woman to shame) and there is still heartburn radiating through my stomach.
Yes, it put EL DIABLO into my belly and he has refused to leave. He’s sitting in there laughing like the freaky little gremlin he is as he scorches my abdomen. You know who I’m talking about. This Guy.
Yeah. Imagine him in your belly. That’s what I got…
I’ve decided that I have to find someone who can put the fear of god into my stomach. I am in DIRE need of a stomach exorcism. Forget Emily Rose or whatever. This is the exorcism of Kellen Rose (coincidence? I think not!) – I told you it was gonna get freaky.
GET IT OUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTT
Preferably before my roommates get home since I don’t want to subject them to that?
Okay great. Perfect.
A Twentysomething in San Francisco 