I drank way too much milk at dinner

Last night I drank too much milk.

On a normal Sunday, I reserve the entire day for beaching myself on the couch and ordering a pineapple cheese pizza to munch on for several hours while watching stupid, stupid shows like Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Unless I'm with my boyfriend, and in that case we watch shows like Mythbusters, River Monsters, or The Best Warrior. And just in case any of you are interested, a Spartan does in fact beat out a ninja if they were ever paired to fight each other. Something to do with the Spartan's shield...used as both a protection device and weapon. Just fascinating!

Anywho, for some reason I woke up yesterday morning feeling very...active, I guess is the right word. So I went to brunch, cleaned the house, gave the dogs a bath, played ultimate frisbee, played badmitton, worked out, made dinner...and by that time I was incredibly thirsty. I decided on milk because it spoke to me from the refridgerator. It was next to the water filter and for some ungodly reason it looked more able to quench my thirst.

So I had a glass with dinner. And then finished it before I finished dinner. So I had another glass. And then finished that one before I finished dinner. And so the cycle went.

By the time dinner was over I was in my normal Sunday beached-on-the-couch mode, except this time I was an actual beached whale. I think I might now know what it feels like to be 9 months pregnant. I was so uncomfortable that I couldn't do anything but lay flat on my back with my hand on my stomach (as if that makes a difference) and grimace at the tv. Moving, at all, was unexplainably awful. I don't even want to talk about going up the stairs. All I could think about was waking up in the morning feeling 375y37567835 pounds lighter and agile once again.

I'm happy to say that I made it through to morning, but I took one glance at the gallon of milk in the fridge and almost relapsed right then and there. I will be avoiding milk for a while.