Growling
My stomach is growling.
I last ate pretty early last night, and didn't have anything else all evening bar one cup of tea. So this morning, my belly is empty and growling.
That, would you believe, is actually a good sign for me. I tend to prefer having a stomach that growls at me to one that feels full and bloated. I hate feeling distended and windy, with my guts screaming at me in agony begging for release. At least the gastric orchestra I am currently hearing is much gentler.
Every time my weight started to go down again, it was always preceded by this gastric chorus, and a vague sense of emptiness begging to be filled somewhere underneath the solar plexus. I've come to appreciate and anticipate that feeling of hunger, because even the smallest morsel of food becomes a banquet, and my stomach is easily satisfied.
So I'll just let my gut groan at me for a little while longer. And then, later this afternoon, I'll wander on over into town and see what I can eat there.
Something small. :)
I last ate pretty early last night, and didn't have anything else all evening bar one cup of tea. So this morning, my belly is empty and growling.
That, would you believe, is actually a good sign for me. I tend to prefer having a stomach that growls at me to one that feels full and bloated. I hate feeling distended and windy, with my guts screaming at me in agony begging for release. At least the gastric orchestra I am currently hearing is much gentler.
Every time my weight started to go down again, it was always preceded by this gastric chorus, and a vague sense of emptiness begging to be filled somewhere underneath the solar plexus. I've come to appreciate and anticipate that feeling of hunger, because even the smallest morsel of food becomes a banquet, and my stomach is easily satisfied.
So I'll just let my gut groan at me for a little while longer. And then, later this afternoon, I'll wander on over into town and see what I can eat there.
Something small. :)
