So I’ve been quite a cranky old bitch lately (read: past
3 weeks month 3 months). I’d like to think that there are a number of reasons why this strange phenomenon has come to be. I’m usually quite a sugar peach to be around. And by sugar peach I may mean cynical smartass dressed as a sugar peach. But since I sometimes give nickels to hobos (charity and kindness) and I refrain from killing people just because they are annoying (forgiveness and tolerance) its only fair to classify me as a selfless sugar peach.
The only major incident I can think of that would change my peachy personality to bitch mode is the recent denial of my Immigration application. But lets get real. One is able to cream off sympathy for major life disappointments only for so long before someone else you know one-ups you with a bigger life disappointment of their own and ruins everything. Assholes.
While most people have nervous breakdowns after major life disappointments, I tend to have more of a slow painful release of rage which stretches itself out. It isn`t so much the major life shattering events that shake my being, rather it is the little everyday instances of non-winning moments that send me in to bursts of intense irritation. Things like missing a bus by 30 seconds, running out of shampoo, people who contribute nothing to society but coffee breath, that Nicki Minaj girl and her pink haired cronies swimming in oceans of liquid pink laxatives …don’t feel free to stop me..
Now before you all slip on your silky judgement panties and silently sentence me to life in Anger Management, I don’t burst a vein every 5 times an hour when I hear Super Bass on the radio. Usual annoyances come with the territory of living in society with other (debateably) civilized human beings. All I’m saying is, for me when life poops on my dreams, instead of losing my marbles and throwing tampons at innocent bystanders, I just internally fume and shoot superiour looks at the sillier members of the human race. I’m okay with looking like a bitch…just not a crazy one.
Anyway, where am I going with all this? I don’t know. Oh yeh, anger management. The way I deal with it is usually I stay home and spare the community of my social genocidal tendencies. Behind closed doors, I practice the art of gastronomical pretentiousness where I help myself to a crusty loaf of French bread, a slab of goat cheese, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, a glass of wine and a large plate of hateration for everything and everyone. Food knows disappointment better than anyone else. It does not judge the fact that you complain about these silly first-world problems. It does not compare your situation to someone elses bigger life disappointment and tell you be grateful. Food knows that that’s not what you want to hear, and even if it is what you HAVE to hear, food knows that telling you that doesn’t make the slightest bit difference in how you feel. No, you have friends to defend the silver lining. Food is there to momentarily comfort you when you’re too blind to accept that there is a silver lining and your friends are too blind to see that.
So all that being said, you can imagine the pickle I was in when not only did my application get turned down but I got the worst attack of acid reflux. Not only did those immigration bastards ruin my life, they also ruined my appetite. Acid reflux is by far more frustrating than it is serious. I had to avoid everything in life that gave me the tiniest bits of delight in these dark ages. Coffee (goodbye Starbucks *
tear …gut-wrenching sobs*), tea, balsamic vinegar, lime juice and every other fruit juice, fruit, ice tea, spicy food, hot sauce, tom yum soup, chocolate, sugar, fried foods and the worst one of them all…wine.
This left me with bread, water and sushi. Not even those biblical folks sacrificed like this. Agreed they all had shittier life situations than not being able to pop into Starbucks. But at least they had wine. And when they didn’t, Jesus made it for them because even he knew that there’s only so much rejection a
girl disciple can take.
And so friends, if you’re ever in a gastronomical tight spot and you feel like the world is going to end with every morsel of food, don’t fret. I have compiled a list of symptoms, some that you will find in any literature on acid reflux and some you will come across that no medical website will tell you. In addtion to not fretting, please don’t google symptoms either. Apparently, acid reflux shares the same symtoms with a rare, untreatable form of stomach cancer which renders you only two hours to live.
Stomach pain: This one is the most common.
Burning sensation in the stomach: especially when you drink vinegar, Drain-o and other acid based drinks and food.
Chest pain: Pain going down your chest area when you eat your favorite food.
Chest squeezing: Pain when your stomach tries to reject all of your favorite foods.
- Heart attack: Combination of chest pain and chest squeezing.
- Neck pain: From sleeping in an upright position to stop you favorite food from creeping up your oesophagus. Usually, it manages to break the law of gravity anyway.
Fear: Because you think you’re having a heart attack all the time.
Constipation: Usually from stress of dealing with a government who doesn’t give a shit (pun intended), heart attacks and not eating enough to form a significant amount of poo.
Grunting: Because you begin to assess your life and you find that you’re a foreigner trying to sell that last functional organ to pay taxes, you have not been able to eat or drink for the last two months, your stomach hurts for no apparent reason, you’ve had 49 heart attacks and you haven’t taken a dump in a week.
This all happened back in July. Now its October. Some things are still the same. I’m still a foreigner living pay cheque to pay cheque. But while time may not have completely healed my
wounds pride, it has healed my stomach. I am now able to drink coffee. I haven’t started drinking drain-o just yet though.
What remains to be seen is if my stomach will open its acid-damaged heart to wine. I think its time.No more of this heartburn immigration government-hating nonsense. It was time to move on and stop blaming the government for my inabilty to eat and excrete. Letting someone else steal my life disappointement thunder in lieu of a glass of wine seemed like a more than fair trade off. So yesterday, I slowly made the monumental walk into LCBO and picked out a cheap French Pinot Noir. I had one glass with dinner, shed a tear or two and waited for the heartattack. None came.
I waited until I woke up this morning because defying acid reflux like that is much like having a one-night stand with a cute guy from the bar. Great idea the night before… pain, suffering and regret the next morning. When I woke up with no heart attack this morning, I was so excited I wrote a blog post about it.
And so that is my compelling no frills story of acid reflux. Its a big problem with little that can actually be done. Most over the counter antacids work for a total of 15 minutes after you pop about seven and a half of them. The best remedy I found is Zantac and patience. Maybe at the end of the day, that’s what I had to learn from all of this. Patience with myself, patience with others and patience with God. I know my
cranky old bitch selfless sugar peach phase required a hellova lot of patience from my friends and society. Patience I cared not to have for them in return.
Also, most problems cease to exist when you stop giving them so much attention, stop finger pointing and move on.