August 10, 2010 by skwishface
Over the weekend, The Husband and I pawned our children off on my dad and his lovely wife so we could get a few important things done. Things like eating rich Italian food and going to see a movie (Inception, which you should see if you like pretty men. and I do). Oh, also painting our master bedroom, which turned into a nearly all-night affair thanks to having spent hours doing the other two important things.
The point is, I had lobster ravioli.
When eating at restaurants, I try to order food that I would never make for myself. Normally this ends up being a salad because I hate making salads because UGH ALL THE CHOPPING. But this time it was rich, decadent lobster filling packed into these huge fresh raviolis. There was creamy sauce. And extra lobster meat sprinkled on top. I could not finish it. There was one lone ravioli left on my plate that nobody was going to eat. The Husband loathes seafood, and no way was I going to stick that single pasta pocket in our car to sit in the hot night and ferment whilst we watched a movie so I could come back to the car and sit in overheated aged seafood stink for the whole ride home. It would only ruin the memory of the original meal, which had been a heavenly delight. And we couldn’t have that, now could we? No we could NOT.
What was I saying? Oh right, gas.
I don’t eat terribly rich food often. And even less frequently does that rich food involve succulent shellfish. My digestive system has been … rather cross with me ever since. I’ve been scouring the internet to find some kind of cubicle device, like maybe hazardous warning signs, or POLICE-LINE-DO-NOT-CROSS tape that I can string up across the entrance to my cube. My poor coworkers. They deserve to be warned. Until further notice, it’s really best to just instant message me. Or call me. Or holler from across the room. Whatever you do, don’t come into my tootmosphere.
It’s been days, though! Shouldn’t the infernal bubblings cease? I suppose it doesn’t help that I’m sipping a carbonated beverage at this very moment.
Gosh I’m smart. And gassy. Stay over there.