In the blackness of everything that is “lunchtime in the office”, I found myself in familiar grounds. Writing has been a frequent past time in the past couple of weeks and yes, here I am again.
There is a throbbing pain in my errmm…upper abdomen. I wish I could say “heart” to romanticize the language of this text, but I don’t feel anything there. All the pain I feel is just concentrated in well…my upper abdomen.
I will neither confirm nor deny that this is about a boy. I would just simply state that this is a non-issue. Yes, even with that throbbing pain, even with the fact that my elephant-like appetite has now been reduced to 100% and the taste of a full meal has been nonexistent for three straight days. This is a non-issue. I will laugh this off, buy myself a cup of my favorite tea and soon, I’ll be eating off of a large buffet plate. This is a non-issue. I have to say that several times until I get it – the same way I did when I convinced myself that I am Penelope Pitstop. This is a non-issue.
