Earlier this evening, I had bad stomach cramps. Gas, probably. I likes my hamburgers, but sometimes they can do bad things to a man (that man being me).
So I was in That's Rentertainment. And my guts were churning and twisting and kicking. I go up to Ellen in the foreign film section and much to everyone's misfortune, the pains escape from my stomach and out of my butt (a'la a fart) and I warn her to steer clear. She does.
Fortunately, with this, the pain goes away.
It was at this point that I realized the best feeling in the world is the moment after an intense pain leaves. You can be doubled over in a fetal position on the floor, but once the hurt goes away, it's like a new lease on life. You've never felt better.
With this logic, the worse you feel pain... the better you'll feel when it's gone.
I'm gonna' get an illness. A horrible, painful illness. So in those rare moments when it recides, I'll feel more magnificient than ever before.
Or I could just learn to appreciate good things when I have them. And not just when they go away.
That's always an option.
ON A SIDENOTE: Where have all the promising female No Shame writers of last semester gone? It's been three weeks this semester and there's been no sign of Anne, Candie, Sadie, or Erin. I'm selfish and I want to see their good work. What gives?