I was so full that when I lay in bed last night my stomach hampered my lung capacity, so I rolled and gasped until, overwhelmed by tryptophan, I collapsed.
Now it's time to go to work. I work both jobs today, and I feel like a sloth. I can't move quickly because my arteries are full of gravy. I cry butter.
It could be worse, though. Michele and her sister have been out shopping since five AM. I could be in like at Kohl's, or screaming in a parking lot somewhere. But I'm not. I'm going to work, where it's quiet.