Despite my best efforts to ignore the pain, my digestive system remained in revolt on Friday (yogurt, turkey sandwich, wine, vodka) and Saturday (eggs, toast, soy meat, wine, pizza, five-course plated dinner paired with a variety of beer), and Sunday morning I decided “fuck it” and straighaway drank grapefruit juice spiked with vodka followed by some coffee in an effort to sober up.
Sunday afternoon I scraped myself off the floor and drove down to my parents’ house, since I hadn’t seen them for over a month. My mom took me shopping at Marshall’s and my dad made pasta carbonara and my sister let me borrow her hair straightener so I left looking pretty.
And as I drove back to my apartment, I noticed a distinct absence of abdominal discomfort.
If what shannoxx says about stress and stomach pain is true, it seems that the perfect balm is a Sunday at home, complete with shopping, reisling, and carbonara.