We enjoyed a “fend for yourself” dinner last night, my roommates and I. Since we also went to the grocery store right after work this turned out to be a great plan. (Responsible Me picked up some breakfast and lunch options for work so I’m not eating out all week long…) In a fit of nostalgia I picked up a box of something I hadn’t enjoyed in quite a while: Stouffer’s French Bread Pizza. I used to eat those things all the time, I tell you.

Coincidentally, I also used to deal with acid reflux attacks fairly often. I couldn’t quite figure out why, and eventually they just stopped and I didn’t worry about it much.

Yes. Well. Quarter-past-three this morning I woke up to the nastiest acid reflux I’ve suffered in ages. Oh.

I think that’s it for those French Bread Pizzas, don’t you? Now to stumble through my day on about four hours accumulated sleep…