Help, I'm in hell!

Yesterday when I mentioned that I am extremely sensitive to sugar, what I failed to mention was that it took years, YEARS, to train myself that a basket of rolls or a loaf of French bread is the same thing as a basket of cookies or a cake. I would never eat a basket of cookies and I hate cake, but a basket of fresh baked rolls or a warm loaf of French bread?! Now that's another story.

Sidebar: my dad's mom was known as the bread lady. She never showed up anywhere without white bread and butter. One of my favorite things about sleeping over was that we ate warm bread and butter for breakfast. She also loved her wine. She also died from cancer.

So there I was in agonizing pain all day, note: at work. My head was raging, my eyes wanted to clamp shut, and I basically felt like an all out wreck. And I bit my lip and it's super swollen. Ever read that children's book Alexander and the no good, very bad, horrible day? This is that.

Moral of the story: stay the course. The upside to this is I can only feel better from here. Wah Wah