Hangry. It’s not just an adjective.


*Dedicated to my sweet and special Lori*

I’m hangry.  I mean, SUPER DUPER, stay out of my way, I’ll rip your f*cking head off kind of hangry!!!

All day today I have been fasting and not because I’m some kook trying to avoid food and lose weight in some ridiculously unsafe way.  No no!  I’m no advocate of that nonsense!

This lucky girl has a medical procedure early tomorrow morning.  The ass crack of dawn in fact.  Huh.  That’s sort of a pun.  The only upside to the early morning peek-a-boo procedure is that I’ll be able to eat as soon as I’m awake and upright.  I’m thinking a dozen bagels, a dozen eggs, a pound of bacon, throw in some fruit and about a gallon of coffee.  Yeah, that should do the trick.  For starters.

So, this procedure tomorrow morning requires me not eating any solid foods at all today.  From the time I woke up this morning until the time I go to bed tonight.  Clear fluids and jello only.



I so desperately want to feel the crunchiness of something salty between my teeth, the delicate smoothness of a piece of dark chocolate melting on my tongue, savor the tannins in a yummy glass of fine red wine while sitting on the porch watching the sun set and the dogs playing in the yard.

Oh look!  What’s that?  There!!!  On the kitchen table.  It’s a lollipop!  I want to devour it!  And the bag of chips next to it.  And the box of Tagalong Girl Scout cookies on the dresser in my bedroom.  Shit, even the Yankee candle that smells like banana bread could be a reasonable, but waxy, option right now!

My friends were even sweet enough to not eat at home tonight.  To spare me the smells of flank steak cooking on the grill and garlic asparagus being sautéed on the stove top.  I’m just making that up, I don’t know what they would have cooked, but I know it would have been torture to smell anything being made with happiness and love in the kitchen we break bread in.

Instead, they went out for Indian food.  Shared some chicken vindaloo, whoop-de-doo!  I don’t even like Indian food, but I’m insanely jealous right now that they could sit down and eat with total abandon, something that was no doubt fragrant and delicate and a complete treat for them in that moment.

Right now, I would probably love dog food and not complain.

In about an hour and half I get to ingest the second part of prep medication, 16 ounces of pure disgustingness followed by 32 more ounces of chaser water.  It will make my belly hard, bring on waves of nausea and land me in and out of the second most popular room in any house until at least midnight.  I will crawl to my bed and pray for sleep or death, whichever comes first.  During this process I will curse my body for being sick and making me feel miserable more often then I feel good.

Then I will pull my big girl panties up and feel thankful that I was lucky enough to wake up this morning and experience another day of life.

I just have to make sure to wake up tomorrow morning on time to get to the hospital.

Hopefully I won’t resemble this:


Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to drink my dinner….a pint of clear chicken broth.


Love, Jeni


6 thoughts on “Hangry. It’s not just an adjective.

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