It should be disturbing how incredibly easy it has become for me to throw up my food.
But I don’t find it disturbing at all.
I’m actually quite satisfied when I’m able to get it all out of me.
About 20 minutes ago a woman in the office offered me some crackers with a southwest dip she'd made. Not wanting to be “that girl” I accepted and had a couple bites. When she sat the leftovers out in the common area with the recipe I walked over and read it.
Whole milk, butter milk, sour cream.
“No way am I keeping that in me.”
So I didn’t.
A quick toilet sess at work and the mistaken acceptance won’t affect my waistline.
Pat on the back.
Perfect.
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