My Stomach and Me (Humor)

Though I've never been formally diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome, I've just come to assume that's what I have. My IBS has gotten significantly better in recent years (I used to be plagued with near daily symptoms that were affecting my desire to eat anything at all).  About ten years ago I had to go on a highly restrictive diet for about a year.  That year of detox got me back to where I can pretty much eat whatever I want whenever I like; the only limitation now is eating after 6:30, 7:00pm.

I warn all friends and family that I can't eat after that time of day.  Happily I have plenty of self-control, so I'm rarely tempted to have "just one slice of pizza", or a "small bowl of ice cream".  I know that such indiscretions will send my digestive system into terrible spasms of nauseous and diarrhea, making my whole body shake and sweat, and my breathing sound like I've been running sprints for the past hour.

It's frustrating though because I tend to be up until 11:00 at night - that's a pretty long stretch of time to go without eating. With all that in mind, I'd like to present a sample conversation I have with my stomach on a frequent basis:

5:30pm
ME: Alright! Home from work.  What do you want for dinner?
STOMACH: Eh, whatever you want, I'm not terribly hungry.  That snack we had at 3:00 is still holding.
ME: Okay, I'll just scarf down a quick yogurt.  You let me know when you want something more substantial though.

6:30pm
ME: How about it? Want some spaghetti or some fried eggs or something?
STOMACH: Nah.  That yogurt was enough.  We're good.

7:30pm
ME: Tick-tock, tick-tock.  We're down to just being able to eat toast or oatmeal at this point.
STOMACH: Pfff! I've got my second wind baby!  We can go all night long!

8:30pm
STOMACH: Feed me.
ME: You're kidding right?  I asked you three times already and you said "no".
STOMACH: But I'm hungry now!
ME: Tough, you're going to have to deal with it.

9:30pm
STOMACH: FEED ME NOW!
ME: Nope, you had your chance.  You're just going to have to suffer, otherwise you'll make me suffer.

10:30pm
STOMACH: <sobbing> Why do you hate me?!?
ME: Because you don't know how to play well with others.  No food for you!
STOMACH: But I'm soooooo hungry!
ME: Yeah and how do you like the alternative? I want to sleep tonight! You're not getting anything until 7:00 tomorrow morning.
STOMACH: I'm going to die!
ME: No, that's what you would do if we ate anything right now.  You're going to have to suck it up and wait.
STOMACH: i hate u.

And this boys and girls, is why I can't gain weight.

The King's Choice (Tipsy Lit Entry)

Less than an hour to go and I'm finally getting this week's entry in! (Oy what a week it's been!)
Sorry - the brain is fried and I can't seem to get the photo to link to the site, so here's the link: Tipsy Lit

"The King's Choice"
450 Words

“Are you certain?” the king asked bleakly.

“Sire, the signs never lie,” the grim soothsayer replied.  “And to be honest, Your Majesty, I pray I don’t live long enough to see it come to pass.”

With that the aged man left the king alone with his thoughts.  What a terrible prophecy!   Being a generally good-humored man however, the king could not help but smile at the utter lack of creativity on the part of the Fates.

“Father!”  The single word pulled him instantly from his musings.  He looked up to see his beautiful young daughter sneak into the room – knowing the old sage had left. 

“Come here, my sweet child,” he said as jovially as he could muster.

The young princess ran into his arms and he clung to his only daughter with a paternal passion he was rarely able to indulge in.  Why must such a wicked prophecy be bestowed upon him?  Why should in involve such a loving child.

“Father, what did the soothsayer say?” she asked, pulling away to study her father’s face.

The king looked back into a face verging on womanhood, yet his daughter’s eyes still contained the untarnished innocence of youth.  He forced a smile and patted her cheek.  “Crops, my love.  Nothing to concern yourself with.”

Dimples formed in her cheeks as she settled herself in his lap and demanded a story.  How could the kings of old lock their daughters away in secret towers when similar portents were laid upon them?  Were their own miserable lives so much more important than the ones they sired?

As he rattled off an ancient tale they both knew by heart he contemplated telling her the awful truth: that her future son would bring about his own death and the ruin of the kingdom.  Yet he knew that such awful knowledge would drive her to a convent in the hopes that taking holy vows would avert disaster.  The king knew those stories too: some mysterious traveler comes along and woos or forces himself upon the unsuspecting maiden and the prophecy becomes fulfilled.

No.  Though he always strove to be honest with his beloved daughter, ignorance would be best in this case.  This way she would marry a man the king knew and approved of.  She’d marry for love and have many years of happiness.  She may not even bear a son right away.  She may be allowed decades of peaceful bliss before the inevitable strikes.

All the while the king would be watching, waiting and knowing that when she presents her firstborn son to him, that he’d be holding in his hands his own demise.  A strange notion no doubt; but he saw no other choice. 

Home Acne Treatments

I've been plagued with acne since the onset of puberty.  Unable to afford the doctor's fees and medications, my parents were unable to do much about it while I lived at home.  As soon as I got out on my own and got a real job with real insurance however, I dashed off to a dermatologist to get my pimples taken care off.

What followed were years of yo-yo wins and frustrations.  Yes, the medications worked, but by the time I needed more (usually after two years or so), it'd been "so long" since I'd been to the office that they couldn't just call the prescriptions in, I'd have to come in again as a new patient.  (Really?!?! Two years?)  So I'd fill out fresh paperwork, have to go to the stupid follow-up appointments even though nothing had changed and then finally be left in peace for a year and half to two years till the prescriptions expired and we'd have to start the whole process over again.

I tried different dermatologists, hoping that I'd find one that wasn't creepy, or scatterbrained, or more aesthetician than actual doctor, or one who didn't have a waiting list of several months.  I tried to explain that I didn't need countless followup visits or wholesale quantities of the expensive treatments they hocked.  No go.

So within the past year or so I finally resigned myself to a life of endless acne (at least until menopause strikes in another 10-15 years); too fed up with the medical establishment to want to play their games anymore.

Problem is I'm getting married in a few short months and I'm still vain enough to not want my face to be covered in angry red bumps on my big day.  Still unwilling to step foot in yet another dermatologist office, I was going to have to research home remedies.

Acne is a complicated condition, it's not just a matter of person hygiene.  It has as much to do with your digestion (apparently), as your skin.  Treatment therefore needs to tackle the issue from several angles.  The following is a (long) list of things that have helped.

1) Wash your face at least twice daily.
Seems like a no-brainer.  My skin is so freaking oily in the summer that I really could actually get away with washing a third time at noon (I choose not to though).  In the winter I get dry scaly patches despite the rest of my face being fairly greasy.
In the morning I use a facial cleaner with benzoyl peroxide.  This tends to irritate some people's skin, but it works great on mine.  I get a cleanser with the highest percentage of BP I can find.
In the evenings I use a simple dye-free, perfume-free cleanser.  I don't use a moisturizer (obviously) or any other skin-care product.

2) Change your washcloth with each use.
Your washing dead skin cells, bacteria, dirt and oil off your face (along with any leftover cleanser).  Don't put that stuff back on your face again later.  Buy some extra washcloths and change them out each time.  Just do it.

3) Change your pillowcase every couple days.
Think about it: you're mushing your face into this thing for hours at a time.  It collects all the stuff you're trying to keep off your face.  As with the washcloths, you may have to buy more pillowcases if you don't do laundry too frequently. 

4) Pepto-Bismol is your friend!
But you don't need to drink it!
Put that stuff on a cotton ball and dab it on your face a few minutes before bed.  Let it sit for 10 minutes or so and then rinse it off.  Pepto has two ingredients in that are found in common acne treatments: benzoyl peroxide and salicylic acid and it's much cheaper than the prescription acne stuff.

5) Stay away from greasy, sugary foods.
If you have acne you probably already know this one, but it's worth mentioning just in case.

6) Don't drink ice-cold liquids.
This is a new-ish one on me.  In researching home acne remedies, this is one that came up.  The reasons were rather nebulous, but since fridge-cold water does trouble my stomach sometimes, I've taken this advice to heart and have tried to cut back on the cold beverages.
According to this school of thought one shouldn't drink anything colder than room temperature - which to me is actually right about the temperature I prefer cold beverages to be anyway; so win there!

7) Instead, drink "Seed Tea".
This is an Ayurvedic remedy I came across in my research.  The recipe is pretty easy:
Boil 5-6 cups of water
In a tea ball, add 1/2 tsp each of: fennel seeds, cumin seeds and coriander seeds.
Turn the heat down to low and let the seeds seep for 10 minutes.
Remove from heat and drink throughout the day until it's gone (I usually have it finished off by 2:00 in the afternoon, but I drink a lot).
This tea actually doesn't directly have much to do with treating acne.  Instead it cleanses the liver and strengthens the digestive system so it's better able to deal with the bacteria and toxins that are bringing those nasty sores to your face.
I should warn that this tea can irritate your bowels.  It takes about a week for your body to adjust to it.  If you're noticing bloody stools, you can dial back the seeds to a 1/4 tsp of each for that first week or so.
Speaking of which:

8) Make sure you poop regularly.
At least once a day for good digestive health (again, it's so your body can handle that bacteria bloom your skin is harboring).  Up your intact of fruits and veggies if your bowels are reluctant to empty themselves on a daily basis.  Just keep in mind that fruits have a lot of sugars (which aren't your friend).  You'll have to find a happy balance between fiber and low-sugar intake.

So that's it!
I've been following this regimen for a couple months now and it is definitely helping.  No, my skin isn't completely acne-free - but it never was even with the prescription medications.  If I'm less than vigilant with any one of the above-mentioned items, I get breakouts; but my skin is better than it was.

Though this routine more or less works, I'm still open to trying different things so if you folks out there have advice - things you've found have worked for you - feel free to share in the comments! (Please don't do a "let me Google that for you!" and post links that you've found without having personal experience to back it up.  There's lots of info on the interwebz and I'd really rather hear personal anecdotes than from helpful researchers.)
Has anyone out there tried the "Oil Cleansing Method"? What mixture has worked best for you?
Anyone out there treated acne with diet alone? How'd that work?
Any other off the wall treatments I've never heard of? Share with the class!

Looking Back and a Little Forward (Karate-Related)

I'm not exactly bragging or complaining here, I was just shocked when I started running the numbers through my head this morning on my way to work of just how long (or short rather) I've been doing Karate and how quickly I advanced during that time.

I mean I was always aware of my start and end points but I never really set the two dates side by side and truly looked at them.

Here's how things lay out:

I started taking Karate in November(-ish) of 2009.
Nothing overwhelming about that: it's four and half years ago

However, I left class in June of 2011.
That means I was only taking classes for a year and a half.  In that time I had jumped up four tested ranks.  (There's a handful of ranks before that but you don't need to formally test for them.)  In fact I received the three stripes on my white belt rather unintentionally: after class one night I asked one of the instructors what one had to do to get the stripes.

"Well," he said.  "Get in a front stance."
So I did.
"Step forward and throw a stomach punch."
No problem.  Took three steps with three stomach punches and then he had me turn around and do some natural blocks; again taking three steps.  Next he asked to see a few groin kicks and then he had me do the first Kata.  And voila, I had three black stripes!  I hadn't even fully realized that that had been the "test".

I didn't have to wait long for my first formal test however.  I got the yellow stripe on my white belt in mid-December.
My yellow belt was achieved three months later and I got the green stripe on my yellow belt three month after that - right before the school year ended.

I was in no hurry for my next rank though.  In fact looking back I don't remember what drove me to work so hard to get my green belt (because I did work very hard for it over the course of a couple months).  I'm not sure if I was out and out invited to test since I'd had my present rank going on a full year, or if I knew I was leaving and wanted the next rank before saying goodbye to Karate for an indeterminate amount of time.

You see, I had started training for a marathon just a few months prior and I felt it'd be too much doing running and Karate at the same time.  I was also taking belly dance classes in parallel to Karate and had hit a point where I needed to choose between the two.  I chose belly dance.  Plus (to be honest), Karate just wasn't fun anymore.

So I took the test and was awarded my green belt in June of 2011.
Then I left Karate cold turkey.
I was content.  I'd made it as far as I felt I could get in a hard-style martial art.  More technique and "aggression" would be required in the higher ranks and I felt I lacked the mettle required to advance further.

So I ran my marathon in August of 2012.
I quit my job at the sign company.
Got a job as an in-home caregiver, then a job at a printing company.  (The caregiver job only lasted nine months; ending when the client passed away due to his illness).
I attended two births as a doula.
I got engaged.

In other words, a lot happened in the intervening years.  I did a lot of growing.

Then something changed: at the start of the 2013/2014 school year I was informed that an instructor I hadn't particularly clicked with had retired and the little gears started whirring.  I wasn't exactly sure if I wanted to go back, but I was curious.  Of course I couldn't just dive right back in anyway - I was working the evening shift at that point which had miserably destroyed my social life and extra curricular activities; so more waiting happened.

I wasn't able to return to class until March of this year.  At this point I'd been gone for two years, nine moths (or three months shy of three years as I prefer to think of it).

I'd really assumed I'd be demoted a rank or two because I'd been gone for so long, but Sensei kept me where I was and I was expected to keep up despite the fact that I hadn't touched this stuff in all that time.  Still, I was surprised at how quickly it all came back.  Yes, the first class or two were a little rough and I was pretty sore for the first few weeks coming back, but a spark had been reignited. 

I was having fun again!

Not only that but it seemed as though some things had soaked in during my absence.  I was throwing punches with some power behind them now.  My front stances were firmer and more grounded.  I was having an easier time keeping the Kata's straight.

I also realized that what was needed for the higher ranks wasn't "aggression" per say but a confidence of technique and skill.  That concept was far less scary to me than the idea of being ready, willing and eager to rip someone's head off.

Sensei must have seen this shift too because it wasn't long after my return that he asked when I would be testing for my brown belt.

That took me aback because as far as class-time went I'd only had my green belt for a month and a half at most.  There were people who stayed with the their green belt for years. 

I told him I'd need to think about it. I then went into a frenzied panic to anyone who would listen.  Slowly though I was convinced that maybe, just maybe I could make this work.

And work I did.  In preparing for my green belt I was only going to class sporadically and taking private lessons to make up the difference.  This test however I threw myself into heart and soul.  I went to EVERY class - showing up early, staying late AND taking private lessons whenever I could squeeze them in.

The results were a test where the performance was very lacking in technique (I haven't been at it enough yet for the muscle memory to soak in), but any black belt would have been proud of my determination and perseverance.  I was winded probably ten minutes into the test (it's about about a half hour, 45 minutes long), but I never once asked for a break.  I didn't cringe when the next section was announced.  Yes, I was about ready to cry when the Five-Man Circle section came up, but I pulled through (messy techniques and all).  I hit the wall during the two minutes of sparring at the very end and actually whispered to Sensei in the last 15 or so seconds, begging him to fight back because he wouldn't hit me (I found out later that he was concerned I'd collapse if he did so). 

Problem was I'd given all I had, I needed more incentive to keep going.  So he half-heartedly cuffed me upside the head once or twice, I threw in a couple more desparate, flat-footed kicks and punches and finally we were done.  Test was over.

Oh I thought I was going to be sick!
In fact I actually was quite ill for several hours after the test (my body doesn't bounce back well from being over-taxed).  About 1:30 in the morning though I was finally able to eat and drink properly and I felt significantly better after that.

Nope, my third degree brown belt test wasn't pretty (no third degree brown belt test is!); but it's not meant to be pretty.  It's meant to push you to your limits of physical endurance and then push a little harder and see how you react.  In that sense I passed with flying colors.

So now I have my brown belt. 
I've joined the ranks of "Junior Instructors". 
I'm someone the lower ranks look up to.

However, I have a lot of "growing into the rank" to do.  Most of my techniques are going to have to be deconstructed and rebuilt, but I knew that going in.  I'm no virtuoso, I just have good pattern recognition skills and pick up on the general gist of physical movements quickly (very handy in dance too!). 

The next test (yes, I'm already thinking about the next one!) is all technique.  I have a whole summer ahead of me to build up my endurance and improve my strength and flexibility.  Being unwilling to quit isn't going to win my next rank.  I now need skill and finesse.  The next test needs to be pretty.  In my opinion that's going to be far harder than what I've just been through!

Fortunately there's no particular hurry. (Of course I thought that with every rank I've had!)
Still, wish me luck; I'll need it!

Latest Opening to "The Kai'us Planet"

I've been trying to rewrite a story I wrote back in 1993.  In fact I've been trying to rewrite it for the past eleven years.  Fortunately every version has gotten better, but it was always flawed in the simple fact that influences from the first version (written when I was 14 years old) continued to "pollute" it.

After taking a lengthy hiatus from this novel, I've been trying to revisit it all this year with little success.  I've tried different starting points for the story, different points of view, but none of them held my interest long enough to continue.

I'm hoping this latest opening is what finally hooks me to write the whole thing "the right way".

I bid you enjoy!


The latest opening to "The Kai'us Planet" (working title):

Keith found it rather ironic that in this modern age of digital devices to be writing on a clay tablet.  His worry was that batteries died and devices broke or got lost.  Granted, clay tablets could break too but his hope was that this one—and the ones to follow—was large enough and would be stored carefully enough that it likely wouldn’t meet that fate before serving its purpose.

He looked thoughtfully at the smooth slab in his lap, tapping the unusual x-shaped, wooden stylus against his chin.  He’d gotten pretty good at its use despite the fact that it had not been designed to be used by human hands.

Finally he touched carved wood to soft clay, writing in a language that wasn’t his own but which he had learned to speak and even think in almost fluently.  The translation of which was, “My beloved son.  I am writing this account in case your mother and myself are not able to tell it to you.  It is not a history of the race of your birth, for those people you may never meet.  Instead it is a history of how your parents came to the world of your birth.  It is a telling of how and why we made the choices we did under the circumstances presented to us.  Know that we always tried to make the right choices.”

Sharren came in then and glanced over his shoulder, reading the little bit he’d written.  “Aren’t you being a little heavy-handed?” she asked, rubbing her gravid belly.  “Everyone hopes they make the right choices.  I know that I have no regrets over how we did things.”

Keith leaned against his wife but kept his eyes on the tablet.  “Sometimes I regret everything,” he said in quiet honesty.  “Sometimes I wish none of it ever happened.”  He turned toward Sharren now and kissed her belly where their son continued to grow.  “But this guy, he makes it all worth it.”

“You’re not going to have enough tablets to tell him everything,” Sharren cautioned.  She had never been a fan of this crazy project of his but had finally conceded to humor him and let him get it out of his system.  It didn’t mean she fully supported him though.

“I don’t think it’ll take more than twenty,” Keith mused.

Sharren raised her eyebrows.  “Oh?  This is going to be the abridged version then!”  She kissed him on the top of his head and said, “I’ll leave you to it then, my love.  Just let me know when to have the kiln fires lit,” and she left the room.

Keith watched her go before turning back to his tablet.  A dry breeze wafted in from under the door-flap.  He was impressed yet again by the clever recipe used to make these writing tablets.  It didn’t matter how long they sat, the clay stayed soft and pliable (for years sometimes!) until they were baked to their final hardness.  He had no worries of letting his mind wander as he wrote—the clay would maintain perfectly workable.

Pressing the stylus into the clay again, nimbly turning it as he worked, he continued his letter.  “Our journey to this world started three years before you were born on a world called ‘Mars’.  Your mother and I were space travelers who took people and things to distant worlds.”

The Bird Killer (TipsyLit Entry)

I actually had time this week to put an entry together for Prompted. (Pretty excited!)

Typically for prompts I set my story in realistic modern times, but I just couldn't make it work for this one.  Introducing magic was the only way I could keep the story from going dark (not that that's necessarily a bad thing, it just wasn't what I was in the mood to write).

So here you go:

"The Bird Killer"
415 Words


“You shouldn’t be using your magic to kill birds,” Ammie declared firmly.

Kiv jumped, having assumed he was alone.  “It’s none of your business,” he snapped at the wiry ten year old; though he felt an immediate pang of guilt that he’d been caught.

“You killed the chickens last week didn’t you,” she pressed.  “Daddy had to buy more you know.  He wouldn’t have needed to if you hadn’t killed them all.”

Kiv grumbled angrily and turned away.  It had been easy for their father to assume some animal had snuck into the coop and slaughtered the chickens – there’d been enough of a mess for sure.  To avoid suspicion though, Kiv had shifted his focus away from domestic fowl and instead continued to refine his technique by sniping birds off tree limbs.  He could finally do it now without making them explode.  It was wholly satisfying and he hadn’t felt the least bit bad about it until now.

“I’m eighteen,” he declared haughtily.  “I can do what I want!”

“Why are you killing them?” she countered.

“Practice.”

“For what?  For killing us?”

Kiv stopped and looked at his little sister, surprised.  He saw in her innocent eyes that she was only being abstractly philosophical, that she didn’t truly believe her brother would murder his family.  Still, he imagined the direction his little games could easily go if he continued and the wind instantly wafted from his sails.

“No,” he replied humbly.  “It was just something fun to do…” and he realized how empty his words sounded.

“You have all that magic and the only ‘fun’ you can think of to do with it is killing birds?” her hands were on her hips now; so like their mother.

The young man smirked and caused a puff of air to kick up a moat of dust in front of his sister.  She sneezed, as he knew she would, and they laughed.

“Well,” he replied.  “What fun do you think I should have with my magic?”

Ammie thought for a moment, giving the matter serious consideration.  Finally she suggested, “Daddy was thinking about felling some trees at the north end of the wheat field.  I bet you could blow them up right at the base and make them fall down easily.”

Honestly he’d never tried using his powers that way but it was in line with how they worked.  “Alright then,” he replied with a chuckle, taking the hand of his ingenious sister.  “Let’s give it a try!”

Totally Not Writing (Life Update)

Ah! I’ve hit that lovely place that every writer knows and dreads: that place where I just don’t want to write.

It’s not for lack of time.  Lately I’ve had a couple hours every evening (apart from Karate nights) where I’m all caught up on Facebook and have some enviable free time.

It’s not for lack of projects either (there’s so many kicking around!).  But once I open a file and try to start working on it I’m like a nine year old picking at their overcooked green beans.  I just don’t wanna!

Still, writing needs to happen so why not a blog post about why I don’t want to write right now?

I honestly think it's because my not-free moments are chocked-full of intensity.  I mentioned Karate and that certainly is a biggie presently.  I’m testing for my next rank on the 27^th.  This is after only being back to class for three months after taking nearly a three-year hiatus (shortly after receiving my current rank).  I’ve been bustin’ my ass every Tuesday and Thursday in class as well as any Sunday I’m available for private tutoring getting to a point where I might juuuuust squeak by on this test next week. 

Why even go through all that effort then?

Because my Sensei asked me to and if he thinks I can do it then I’m going to do my best to do it!  

Plus it’s a hell of a lot of fun.  I enjoy challenging my limits (examples of which could easily take up a five-part blog series no doubt! <- which I don’t want to write btw. lol). 

The cherry on top of this flaming pile of “Why?” is that all this hard work has a foreseeable end point: that test next Tuesday.  This means there’s a clearly defined finish line to shoot for.

If I pass, I’ll have my third degree brown belt (yeah!)

If I don’t pass, I’ll have the summer to brush up on my skills some more and try again sometime next school year (these classes are tied in with the local school district – they even take place in the school gym – and are only in session during the school year).

On top of obsessing over Karate, my business partner and I are ramping up our small crafting business.  We got our DBA last Friday and are working on getting our Tax ID Number so we can open a joint business account, wave around a Tax Exempt form when buying supplies, and attend larger craft shows and conventions without being harassed as to whether or not we’re properly collecting and reporting sales tax.

Of course with taking our business to the next level it means we need more inventory, so we’ve been signing up for beading classes and making so many pretties to sell.  It’s certainly raising interest in those around us, and hopefully the floodgates will soon open and we’ll be busy selling things!

Let’s not stop there though!

Said business partner is also helping me plan my wedding which will be happening in the fall.  Fortunately everything is still on target in the planning department, but there’s a lot of ducks to keep lined up and a lot of money will being getting thrown around soon.

Speaking of money, I’m also trying to find a different job!  Not that I don’t like my current employment – I couldn’t ask for a better place to work.  The vector work I do is most satisfying and I never tire of it.  I’m good at it; I’m always improving at it and I’m appreciated.

I’m also making entry-level pay.  For someone whose been in their field for over ten years, who owns a house and will need to replace their car within the next year or two, this is not a good arrangement.

I could make more money as a desk receptionist somewhere (which is what I’m applying for honestly as I can’t seem to find decent-paying work in my field).  Of course I’m trying to get a receptionist position at a medical office as I’d like to go to nursing school at some point and such a job would (in theory) help move me in that direction.

So yeah.  I’m busy.

Though these lovely couple hours at the end of the day really should be devoted to any one of my many writing endeavors, once I close Facebook and stare at attempt number five at the start of my novel, or edits to my Tree Mage story, or yet another week of Prompted on TispyLit, I’m that kid picking at their soggy vegetables.

Can’t I work on something else? I whine inside.

Yes, you just did!