I’m hungry.

It’s been less than a week since I’ve stopped eating solid foods, and I miss eating more than I thought I would. I guess this is why I never really dieted. Eating is just part of who I am. That explains the weight issues, right?

I can’t survive on Gogurt/yogurt, Vitamin Water and Vicodin. However, the Vicodin passes the time quicker.

I’m almost tempted to numb my mouth with EMLA cream and eat this:

Yes, that is a cheeseburger with grilled cheese sandwiches for buns. I almost licked my screen when I discovered it.

Of course, if I numbed my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to chew, swallow, or most importantly, taste, so it would be pointless to eat after numbing, not to mention near impossible.

Dennis seems to think that my pain has gone on long enough, and I need to do chores to keep my mind off of things. Such as washing the mountain of laundry that has grown in the past few days, changing the sheets on the bed and making the bed, plus adjusting the pH and temperature (“I am SICK of sleeping on a cold, wet bag! I have a RASH from the mold in the bed!” WTF? You wanted a water bed!). I was also asked to dump my cloves/alcohol mixture (“The smell is making me sick!” Are you pregnant?). All of this must be done by 10pm, and I had to take him to the studio, in the blistering, hot July sun, and come home.

Joke’s on him though. I got the mail and the credit card bill. I’ve effectively destroyed the purchase listings of the bill, so there.