About halfway through my burrito, I suddenly started to feel a bit full, so I willed myself to consume no more and I went about my day. Several hours later, after I had completed a number of chores and errands, it was past lunch time. However, I felt so completely glutted I was nearly compelled to swoon. However, I clung to my manly toughness and pressed on. At 5:00 p.m. my internal chronometer told me in no uncertain terms that it was time for dinner, but I still felt stuffed like the proverbial Christmas goose. By 7:30 p.m. I was growing concerned that my state of over-satedness would never ebb. I was frantic, beside myself with fright. Furthermore, I was getting kind of ticked off with my tummy's lack of ability to take care of business.
By 8:00 p.m. there was little change in my condition and I began muttering audibly to myself, gesturing wildly at my stomach. In a fit of pique I decided that vigorous exercise was called for, so I began fast-walking in a loop throughout my house. I continued for about 20 minutes until I felt like a fool. However, my tummy felt better. I was finally able to have a small snack before bed time. At that point I figured that I was once again master of my domain.
When I woke up the next morning my calf muscles were tighter than a gnat's arse spread over a jam jar. I have never been in such a condition. The pain was exquisite. I could not get my muscles to stretch out. When I walked I resembled a pirate swabbie comically hobbling around on two peg legs. Now several days later, my condition has not improved. I have become an object of ridicule and the brunt of jokes of the local school children. Next week I am definitely going to sleep in.
