As it turns out, there is indeed more than one way to skinny a Cat. The stomach virus can certainly do that- at least temporarily. So can becoming a Vegetarian- which I have been trying to be- until last week. Did I fall off the turnip truck for a delicious bar-b-que or tasty, tasty slab of steak? Nope, but I was tempted recently, by a dinner with friends at The Salt Lick. While those around me had brisket, ribs that seemed to come from some sort of large dinosaur and sausage. I love me some sausages! I had the veggie platter-which equals cole slaw and potato salad – since I skipped the beans with BRISKET IN THEM. Brisket. In the beans. On the veggie platter. The Salt Lick people must have been trying to show me the error of my high browed eating ways by tempting me with tasty moist chargrilled brisket. I passed on the meat and the beans. Was I seduced off of the salad parade by the steaks and the sausage Mr. Man grilled for him and The Girl? Oh, I so wanted that sausage he grilled- but alas- I had a salad with pseudo chicken on it. Admittedly, while Mr. Man was out on the back deck checking the steaks- I nearly lopped off a piece of sausage and ate it. I wanted to. But he turned around too quickly so I had to look super busy staring at the salad in the refrigerator… “Look! See me be good , getting salad stuff and not eating that sausage!”. Sometimes I am 12 years old and not 29…or however old I am.
Lately, I have been in a stress pressure cooker. I have lots going on: moving in with Mr. Man, getting a house ready to sell, finalizing a forever pending divorce, getting ready for The Girl’s prom, her graduation, her move onto college, possibly losing my job (again), classes for a real estate brokers’ license, lets see what else… oh a little life altering event called not eating meat and trying to lose weight. Alot of weight. Sixty pounds. Somewhere in between the multiple trips to storage, moving from my apartment, getting rid of crap (stuff crap- not crap crap) and all the other items that make me want to run away- I found myself tired, weak and hungry on the verge of starvation and having to eat whatever I could find or I might die any moment. At any rate, The Girl and I were ragged and stopped at Chik-Fil-A. They do have salad and fruit. But yours truly had a chargrilled chicken sammich. Then I had some fish. Then a cheeseburger. And a ham sammich. Not all in one day, but in a week. This brings me to the worst way to skinny a Cat.
An unpleaseant full feeling (read constipated) that crescendos to a full on menstrual cramp feeling without the menstrual. (To you 3 leggers- that is the equivalent of a good swift kick to the man fruit that doesn’t end for about a week).
Pooping rabbit pellets mixed with a shit storm of gas, and well, shit. Lovely. Keep the wet wipes handy. Just a friendly tip. Then go jump on the scale and congratulate yourself for loosing 10 lbs. and part of your small intestine. Well, don’t jump, you might puke. Gingerly mount the scale.
A general feeling of being tired and lethargic. Or poisoned. Maybe dead is a better description.
Last night , after a ham sammich (yum) and some yard work (boo) I felt like I might die. No really- I have had that feeling before and went to the ER- where they thought might die. My stomach hurt, my head hurt, my joints hurt, my hurt hurt. I thought I might hurl so I went to the bathroom. No hurling commenced. Poop? Nope. So I took a shower and prayed to God (whom I don’t believe in but I felt so miserable that I gave it a shot) that he/she/it would have mercy on me and let me throw up in the shower so I could feel better. Nope. Not gonna happen. So I slowly reached out of the shower while moaning in misery to grab my towel, dried off, put on a tank top and panties (backwards and in side out but who gives a damn because I am in no mood for naked sexy time anyway) and stumbled my sad, hurt, tired , miserable ass to bed. I had the thought that it would really turn off Mr. Man if he were to come to bed and find me in a pool of puke or crap so I should drag myself with my elbows back to the bathroom and make either of those happen so I could crawl back to bed and die with some dignity. That was at 8:50 PM. That is all I remember.
Today , I feel ok but tired. I am so scared of a ham sammich or any other former furry food, that I dare say I well be avoiding them entirely. We had a meeting during lunch today to find out if we will all have jobs – they served us FUCKING HAM SAMMICHES! Holy crap, for reallies? I have no idea if I still have a job, because instead of paying attention, I was plotting my escape from the conference room because I SWEAR those piggy sammiches were staring at me. And taunting me. And plotting their revenge for my having eaten their farm animal buddy yesterday. I’m at my desk. My manager has seen me here so I guess I am safe for now. That or security has been summoned.