First of all, wow.  I got me some wise readers out there.  If you haven’t caught up on the comments from the last post, you should.  Cause your fellow bloggites are GOOD.

Now let me tell you about the fight I am in.

With my digestive system.

[And let me reassure you that I am not going to give any details that might give you your own digestive system issues.  It’s not one of those kinds of situations.]

It just seems, that for about the last ten days, my stomach and I are on two different teams.  Seriously.  Which is weird because usually?  Ye old stomach is far happier with my decisions than ye old hips.  Stomach and I have been buds, amigos, pals, comrades.

Until recently, when every food related decision seems to need to be a counter attack in some war I never agreed to fight.  I think it began during the reign of Nanny McAnnie and there is still no white flag of tummy surrender.  Here are the symptoms:

I wake up FAMISHED.  Like, “feed me now or I swear I will start eating your spine and you will be 2 inches shorted in a matter of minutes” kind of hungry. Sometimes I heed the warning and other times, well, to be honest, I just have other things I’d rather do with my time than eat, so I put it off.

So I’m now 4 feet 11 inches.

Kidding.

If I don’t eat, the hunger goes away for about an hour and then comes back so ferociously that I think there is an absolute chance my stomach may kill me from the inside.  So I feed it.

Whenever I eat, be it right when I wake up or upon the life threatening second warning, I have a good 7-8 minutes of complete normalcy.

Then the cramping begins.  And I was explaining it to Betsy last night like this- it feels like someone is taking my stomach and looping, pulling, and knotting it into a man’s tie.  Or crocheting a stomach scarf.  Something really severe and tightening.

As a matter of fact, yesterday at Frothy I finally had to lay my head on the table and grip my ailing tummy region just to attempt to not pass out from the immense pain.

[Oh. The. Drama.]

The saddest part of that story being that in my heart, I really love egg, cheese, and turkey ….

[Wait a minute.

Cheese.

If this is the onset of lactose intolerance, I swear to everything soy I will be so mad. Because if I have one constant companion in my life besides Jesus, it is dairy.]

So anyways, those ingredients on an everything bagel are usually bliss to my soul.  But not this week.

I spend half the day STARVING and half the day in deep amounts of belly pain.  So that makes me not want to eat.  So that makes the beast that apparently lives in me an angry little thing.  A vicious cycle of pain.  The cycle repeats at every meal, which since this fight began has only been 1-2 times a day cause I just don’t want to fight.

Hear that, stomach?  I don’t want to fight you. Sheesh.  So here it is, Saturday morning, and I can not bring myself to eat because I want to have a fun morning.  Yet I am so very hungry.

Let me distract myself with sending you a few places:

Probably everyone else you read has already sent you here, but please go read about Kelly and pray for her sweet baby.

Also, I’m kind of addicted to my friend Andy’s current series on his blog called “Why Guys Aren’t Asking You Out”.  Not that I relate to the issue [ahem], he just does a really great job of explaining how you can be praying for the single guys AND single girls in your life.

And if you don’t have any single girls in your life- hi.  My name is Annie.  I’m always up for additional prayers in this department.

Mel did an awesome job yesterday of video blogging about how to tie a scarf. I actually demonstrated some of her moves at a party last night.  Not dance moves, scarf moves.  [I demonstrated my dance moves too, don’t you worry about that.  Yay-uh!]

Also, a quick writing update- I only have about 5,000 words left!  Can y’all believe that?  Yeah, me neither.  Please pray for this next week as I complete the manuscript and proposal and stick those puppies in the mail.

Now I’m off to map out today’s battle plan for Annie v. Tummy 09.

Wish me luck.  Or mail me Tums.  Whatevs.