That thing my stomach did

I don’t think that I was writing when it happened, because it came in the middle of my time working super hard on my costume (That ended up winning! No, I can’t get over it yet.)

My stomach went on strike. It didn’t so much announce the strike, as did it just walk off the job one morning when I was at work.

I went to get water first thing in the morning and threw up a bit in my mouth.

Weird. I thought. That’s not a thing that I do. I should probably eat something; that will settle my stomach.

I sat down, and ploughed through the small container of cashews that I bring to work every morning. My stomach still felt upset, so I drank a whole bunch of water.

None of this is good for a striking stomach, which has decided that it doesn’t want to let food pass through it.

I had a meeting later on in the morning. By this time, I was bloated and my stomach was feeling so strange. Also, there was a lockdown at work because someone thought that there was a bomb, so the ventilation system was off, so the air felt tight and close and there was no breeze and in my mind I was visualizing bashing a hole in one of the windows so that I could get fresh air (no, I couldn’t go outside, because then I couldn’t come back in, and then I couldn’t go to my meeting).

All of this, and then suddenly I knew that something was wrong and I leapt from my seat, covering my mouth with both hands and I made it halfway down the hall before it started, but I held it in with my hands and then, I was in the bathroom and… I exploded. I had no aim, there was no rhyme or reason, there was just noise and mess and grossness.

As quickly as it started, it was over. It took me a while to clean up the bathroom, as I thanked my stars that no one was in there during the whole process. I went back to my meeting, my face pale. Then I went home.

For three days, eating a few tablespoons of soup felt like ingesting a turkey dinner, leaving me full and bloated, even as I felt light-headed from a lack of food. I woke up a few days later, as if nothing had happened, my brain having reached a negotiated agreement with my unruly stomach, promising it more sweets.

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