Smart like dump truck

I like to think of myself as a reasonably intelligent young woman.
Until I do something incredibly stupid.

At a wedding this weekend, I thought, you know what? I don't know what's making my stomach Irish dance at random moments, so I'm going to just eat what I want, stop worrying about it, and enjoy a normal meal. I stayed away from the potatoes, creamy pasta salads, etc, and stuck with healthier salads, rice and roast beef. AND THEN CAME DESSERT. The dessert table was glorious. And enormous. I took a slice of some chocolaty-fudge-cream-caramel-oreo-orgasm-in-my-face cake, and savored every last bite.

Could've just skipped the dessert and went straight for this

I then spent the next 15 minutes in the ladies loo, missing the beginning of the toasts and speeches, because my Gastrointestinal Old Faithful decided to make an unscheduled geyser performance. Fantastic. Thankfully, after having a glass of water and a sit down, I felt fine the rest of the night.

So last night, I had to go to a buffet joint for dinner due to my grandmother's 80th birthday party. I bloody hate buffets as it is due to the incredibly minimal lack of healthy options (aka NONE), and of course, after the previous night's show-stopper, I was incredibly hesitant to put anything in my wordhole. My chosen food consisted of raw veggies and fruit. How ridiculous is that!?

My followup appointment is tomorrow. And if she says, "Your test results came back with nothing suspicious" or "inconclusive", I'm going to go Tazmanian Devil in the doc's office.