The tortoise looks like he feels about the same as I do.

I love my state, but August in Arkansas doesn’t love me. Add IBS to the equation and that equals BIG fun! (I’d put my tongue in my cheek, but I’m too nauseated at the moment to do that.)

On days like today, it’s all I can do to force myself to eat (yep, some of us big girls have to do that too), so I thank every god there is for macaroni … and that I’m not gluten- or lactose-intolerant like many other IBS sufferers.

There’s a reason it’s called comfort food.
Image from societytea.com.

Bless you, Kraft, Velveeta and every other company that makes this manna. I’d make my own ideally, but food prep’s a bit dicey in the midst of an IBS flare. As is thinking, typing, etc.

Cat-cuddling, on the other hand—there’s always room for cat-cuddling when you’re nauseous (and it’s highly recommended; just be careful of the kneading on the stomach).

Unless your cat is pissed off because he’s not the center of attention. If that’s the case, just back away slowly.

Soooo … what’s in this for me?