When food gets stuck on the way to or from my Mini-Fridge, it feels like a heart attack. The only thing that makes it better than a heart attack is that I know stuck food will pass.
Yesterday rice was the culprit. I had a cup of jambalaya soup from Whole Foods, and the combination of swelling rice, chicken and broth made my stomach say "fuck you" to my body. When it happens, I have to take a few laps around the office or find a quiet corner of the handicapped bathroom stall and have a silent freak-out session against the wall, my arms stretched overhead. Last week it was tuna that made me re-enact my own version of The Crying Game. No matter how moist tuna, rice or chicken is, it's never moist enough. That's what she said.
Lesson learned. I'm watching for the signs of stuck food so I can stop it before it starts. The signs: pressure underneath the left ribcage, lower back pain, tightness in the chest as a morsel of food raises its middle finger to me. Well joke's on you, stuck food - I can't see your middle fnger.
But I can feel it.
So there's that,