It 10 past hungry o'clock and the inhabitants of my alimentary canal are leading a revolt of gargantuan proportions. A chant of 'Feed us feed us , arises from the very depths of my small intestines to the very split ends of the hairs on my slowly balding head. It has been like this for the better part of an hour or two. I've tried calming those inhabitants down with water but I think they've figured it out; and my attempts to drown them have failed. For all my efforts, there's an amazing swish-swashing of water in my gut that,from the sound of it, turn a beluga whale green with envy.
So to quell all this chaos I've trudged to my house in search of a peace offering for the raging beast. It's time for that famous dance. I know there's nothing worthy of the title sustainance in that fridge; it too knows it has nothing worth it's salt in it; but the motion towards it seems to quell the worms in the gut if only for a while.
So I open the door, all the while,hoping for a five loaves and two fish kind of miracle, but lo and behold, it's exactly as it was in the when I last opened it. In the corner sits what should be a tomato or a bell pepper, a slab of mould with bread around it, an empty bottle of juice and copious amounts of energy drinks.
I close the door and open it again. And again. And again.
Then the stare down begins.
Buoyed by the rising cacophony in my gut and the desperate need to endit, I hold firm. The fridge, with nothing to lose in this fight, stares right back. I'd say who blinks loses but we all know how that would go.
It's been a few minutes and by now I believe even the most hardy of gut residents have realised that this is just me buying time. 'FEED US NOW!' Goes the cry. It's no longer a question, or a request. It's a ridiculously loud demand.
Still the fridge stares, unflinching, unwavering. I slam shut the door. Damn it! Another one lost.
The pantry spews out some war time provisions - tomato soup and crackers. I'm pretty sure this student life is bad for my general well being, but this is a story for another day.
The gut vermin are silent for now, but only for now.
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