I ate breakfast this morning. The best breakfast I ever made. Pancakes, with bacon and eggs and French toast. Then wouldn't you know this persistent stomach virus caused me to throw up hard this morning. The throwing up caused my nerves to just die. Everything I tried to do went wrong. Tig stepped on my hair dryer and didn't tell me so I had to use the crappy second one I had. I dropped my tooth brush in the toilet, I threw up again, I fell going up the stairs, I forgot to turn the clothes dryer on so I had to wear hobo clothes but above all I was pissed off at Tig. Not for breaking my hair dryer but he called me fat!

As everyone knows I started doing yoga, and breaking out my old aerobic tapes. Not that I was fat or even chubby before but my stomach just recently had gotten flatter and my muscles were improving. I even wore more belly shirts (mostly to show off my new belly button ring) because I thought Tig would enjoy it. I didn't think he thought of me as fat before! He told me this just as I was coming out the shower. I forgot to grab a towel so I was walking around our room naked, no big deal. He came behind me and ran his fingers through my wet hair and said; "Damn have you lost weight?"

What the fuck? Am I paranoid or did he call me fat? It was like he seemed surprised that I lost weight. I was never that bad. I pushed him away and continued to get dress. That was the icing on top of my already crummy morning.

"What?" he asked.

I didn't say anything. I blow dried my hair with the shitty hair dryer, and he had enough nerve to try and talk over the shitty hair dryer which wasn't hard. You know why? Because it's shitty! "What did I say?" he asked.

I glared at him. Rude son of a bitch.

"What?!" he exclaimed.

I put on a belly shirt, sweats and boots. These boots were made for walking, soI walked away from him. Now he was pissed at me. "What the hell did I say goddamn it!" he yelled to my back. I put my hair up in a pony tail because I had no time to straighten my hair. After I was done that task I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Called me fat!"

"What?!"

"YES!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!"

"I said you lost weight!"

"That means I was fat before!"

"No it's a compliment. You've always looked good."

"Uh huh...." I said, turning my back to him and walking out the front door and slamming it. He followed me out the door. "Where the hell are you going?" He asked.

"The grocery store!" I yelled hopping in the car and slamming the door. He hopped on his bike, he was going to follow me. Oh that little bastard! He always had to have the last word! I threw my purse in the passengers seat and drove off, with him at my heels. He stopped beside me at a red light.

"I wasn't calling you fat, woman!" he yelled at me.

"Yes you were! Now shut up!" I said, slamming down hard on the gas so I could avoid him.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

That continued until we reached the grocery store. I don't know why but the local Charming grocery store reminds me of Piggly Wiggly but it does. I grabbed a cart and walked up and down the aisle checking out the food ignoring Alex and taking the food we needed, and checked it off my list.

"Look," he started. "I wasn't calling you fat. I was paying you a compliment, you look great."

"I didn't look great before?" I asked throwing some pasta noodles into the cart and crossing pasta noodles off the list.

"No, I mean yes."

"No?"

"No I meant that's not what I thought, you looked hot then and you look hot now."

"Not pretty?"

"You are pretty."

"Not beautiful?"

"You are beautiful."

"Not gorgeous?"

"Goddamn!" he said slapping his forehead and dragging his hand down his face. "Yes, you're gorgeous."

"So why didn't you say that?"

"Oh my god!" he said, on the verge of a mental breakdown of his own. "I don't know, but you're driving me crazy." He wasn't paying attention to where he was going and he bumped into a cart. Bobby Elvis just happen to be grocery shopping too. He was in Elvis costume.

"Grabbing some pork chops, Elvis?" I asked.

"Yep. Gotta keep up my strength." he said.

"Sorry, Bobby." Tig said walking out of his way.

"Not a problem, brother." he said taking off in the other direction when he turned around. "Oh by the way I found this red shit in my Elvis bank. Would you both happen to know how who threw up in my bank?"

Tig looked at me. I was the only one who enjoyed cherry Slurpees more than my own life but I shook my head. "Nope. Don't know what you're talking about."

"Hmm.." Bobby said. "Well then see you."

"Bye." Tig and I both said. Tig waited until Bobby was out of sight when he looked at me. "You threw up in his bank didn't you?"

"Yeah.." I said after a bit. "But you can't tell him. It wasn't my fault. It's just this stomach virus I got."

"Still?" he asked, looking at some of the microwave able Thai food. I picked out some Thai food noodles and seasonings. I didn't want him eating that shit on a plate. "Yeah." I said.

"Apples, you've been throwing up like crazy for a week."

"I feel fine. Besides I thought you would want me throwing up. It'll help me lose weight since I'm so fat!" I said zooming off. I think if I pushed him far enough he would've slapped me as hard as he could. He wasn't going to but there was no doubt he wanted to.

"I'm going outside, I need a cigarette." He said walking away, his nerves just as shot as mine. I couldn't help but feel he was right. I've been throwing up a lot, very sensitive boobs, and I suddenly have the sex drive of Casanova. Plus no period. I couldn't ignore the signs anymore. There's two people I could call on for emotional support in this matter, (besides Tig). Mama who was coming back from Puerto Rico in the next couple of days and Anna Mae Howard.