puffy muff

my friends love eating at the puffy muffin. i don't love the congealed cranberry salad scene, but i go with them. because somehow, i always end up spewing chicken salad from my nose when we eat there. sometimes it's because we are sitting next to rascal flatts and they are wolfing jello salad. sometimes its the blue haired ladies who are sharing half a sandwich. sometimes it's sunday morning and i'm still drunk- whatever. i spew.

and spewing from orafices is a good thing.
unless you sit on said orafice.
which is what reminded me of the puffy muff.
i had surgery on my muff organs, and this made me puffy.

who knew that a human could gain 10 pounds in 48 hours? i entered the surgery center monday morning weighing 125 and weighed in on wednesday at 135.
this equates to 2 clothing sizes up (of which i don't own).
this equates to irrational crying (of which i don't do).
this equates to me trashing the percocet (of which constipates).

if someone had told me my ankles and face would swell like a pregnant lady, i may have kept the squirmy little cells that tried to turn my muff into a petri dish for st. jude's.

and i would have eaten more to earn it.