I have a confession. Two actually.
Today was transition-to-home day. Meaning I left the sweet, comfortable confines of my mother's house for my oft-grimy, smells-like-a-locker-room-cause-I-live-with-a-boy house in the other part of the state.
Confession one: I went to ritas early this afternoon, on my way home. I ordered custard. Yes, with sprinkles (that I chewed). I had about five small bites and felt a little sick (febrile, actually). I threw it away.
My roommate was happy to see me and even cleaned the house up. I spent the afternoon in bed and watched two movies (2 Days in Paris and Killer at Large, a documentary about obesity).
I came downstairs and started catching up on some DVRed shows. I sipped on a boxed protein shake but I couldn't shake the overwhelming urge to EAT something.
Confession two: I ate a piece of Melba toast. One piece. Chewed liberally to paste. It felt wonderful.
Then I foolishly sipped some Gatorade and felt sick, like the liquid was sitting on top of the mush. Not a good feeling. I walked around and it feels better now.
I hope I got that out of my system. I don't start mushies until Thursday.
