Something is definitely wrong with my stomach because it’s been making absolutely crazy noises for the past two weeks. What started out as low, bubbly growls has turned into a frightening cacophony of intestinal moaning, one whose intensity and volume seems to increase with each passing day. Now, I’m not 100% sure why this is happening, but I do have a theory: my stomach must be mad at me.
I’m going to be honest — I’m flummoxed by the whole situation. I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong, but I obviously must be, right? There doesn’t seem to be any other explanation. I’m definitely not angry at my tummy, that’s for sure. I mean, I am upset indirectly, but only because my digestive sack is definitely super pissed at me, if that makes sense.
Knowing it’s me has been terrible, and being unable to pinpoint what exactly about me is making my breadbasket shriek like a yeti is making my brain take huge, questionable leaps like, what if my paunch is barking because it’s upset at my religious beliefs? Could be true. I. Just. Don’t. Know.
While this thought hasn’t exactly been easy to swallow, I do agree that belly growls are a perfectly acceptable form of expression, and my noisy gut has just as many rights as the rest of us. I just wanna know why it feels necessary to roar so loudly and with such force that it registers on the Richter scale. Is that too much to ask?
Regardless, the fact of the matter is this: the only way I’m going to weather this storm is by working together with my inside food holder. We just have to communicate, plain and simple. I’m going to make this work because my fleshy bagpipe means a lot to me, even though right now it’s just being mean.
If I’m being honest though, mi estómago couldn’t have picked a worse time to be mad. I mean, I’ve been fasting for the past two weeks and it’s been super hard not being able to go out to dinner just to be seen. Some organs are more inconsiderate than others, I guess.