She played cups whilst I had a sudden onset of unpredictable diarrhea.
Her fingers twirled and teetered against each glass lip, squeaking and screeching away, whilst in the toilet my bowels were turning themselves inside out.
If I could sit here and think a moment, then perhaps I'd come to the realization that I was doing everything wrong.
If I had a moment to myself without all this screeching and diarrhea, then perhaps I'd have time to kill myself.
Instead I'm sitting here googling Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Living Life Without a Gallbladder, and The Top Ten Reasons Why Brad Dumped Jennifer.
What will I do if I lose all mobility? Will I drown in my own diarrhea?