Over-starved

After a 50-minute jog around my neighborhood, I came home to guzzle a liter-bottle worth of H20. As I fermented and chatted with my friends in the next two hours, I felt my stomach gradually began to growl in hunger.

I pondered if I should have supper to replenish my lost energy. Looking at the clock ticking close to an ungodly 3 a.m., I decided against it, finally taking my bath and going to bed.

Alas, a good sleep was not to be. Mister Toto kept whining throughout the night with his bouts of diarrhoea once more. I suffered disrupted sleep, waking up to his whines and staggering out of the house to let him relieve himself. When the alarm finally rang, I groggily slammed it shut to permit myself any shred of more slumber.

I woke up in fright, realizing I was late for a meeting at 1030 in the morning. I hurriedly washed up, threw on some clothes and headed for school. Without any breakfast.

When I reached my supervisor's office, the undergraduate student due for the meeting was not present. In fact, she was late by 20 minutes. By then, I was duly pissed, having no food for the past 15 hours, no rest and still having to wait for a student when I have my own bloody workload to attend to.

Anyway, during the meeting, my stomach growled intermittently in protest against the lack of food for compensating the usage of energy the night before. When the meeting finally ended, I went to the canteen to buy the biggest serving of pasta for takeaway. But guess what?

I ate like a third of it and lost my appetite somehow.

Man, it seems like my body is fucked.