That’s basically how I felt when I was feeling my supposedly “heart attack.”
Yep. It was only heartburn. But I don’t feel as a fool for confusing them.
Thing is, I had heartburn before. Each time was after Buffalo Wild Wings and that delicious spicy garlic. I felt it in my chest, I felt it in my throat, hiccups, burping, and a burn. That’s what heartburn meant to me. I haven’t experienced it in ages.
So when I awoke at 2:30 am to just feel my chest contrived. My heart didn’t feel like it was pumping. My shoulders were numb and my hands felt like ants were crawling on them. It was just fucking heartburn.
But while I laid there thinking “hey, I might just die.” I just texted my roommate to let him know he might come home to a dead roommate. I was like just like that cartoon. Dying. And fine with it.
HAH!
But it was just shitty heartburn.
I know because the signs were obvious. I fell asleep after eating a whole pizza laying down with a bottle of tequila on my side. Recipe for heartburn.
I got the same symptoms after I hit publish on the last post. Coffee brought back the heartburn. Had some Alka-Seltzer and it calmed down. Had a couple of bananas for breakfast and it was gone.
That NFL was on early yesterday it made it feel like a Sunday. And that I gathered with the family for Thanksgiving to eat a bird also made it seem like a Sunday.
Dinner was delicious and I still have leftovers. The end of the year is coming.
While eating dinner I felt mild heartburn, but nothing like I did at 2:30 a.m. Also. Pat myself on the back. I didn’t have on single drop of alcohol for the first time in a while. I want to keep it up like this. Quitting drinking sounds like a nice healthy choice. But when I have so much time to kill and so many new beers to try, it’s hard.
Speaking of which. I am meeting with a friend later today at a brewery to interview him for an upcoming article. An article I actually pitched as a feature and will be working my ass off for the next following days.
Yep. Shaking off the depression. Got to work. Got to get $$$. Because fuck being poor. It’s winter time and I’m about to again go for a cold shower. I hate them. But I love them. Thinking about them is pain, but once I’m in there I’m like “this is fine.” It also pushes me to workout before I go in. Which is always a plus.
I already did some work today. I sent a few emails, finished and sent two stories I worked on for the past depressing days about pizza. Sadly, two food articles barely pay for uhh food, and emailing people is just connecting, not getting money. At least writing about food feels a lot easier to write now. And writing to other editors means that I need to grow up and stop feeding myself from just one hand.
Matingas 