Under my Um-ber-ella-ella-ella- hey hey hey

My stomach starts "feeling funny" half way through my salad. I think a restroom break will put the kibosh on any shenanigans in my abdomen and return to my desk without an appetite.

Chucking the partially eaten vitamin-feast I opt for a yogurt instead and crack open a Hansen's soda to try to help "settle it". One spoonful of yogurt and the gag reflex it promotes means it too meets it's fate in the white plastic bin under my desk. The soda meanwhile, remains on probation. Huh.... last night I took a chance and offered a "hug" to a friend who had the flu... I dare not blame the churning of my intestines on a selfless teeny piece of affection!!

The clock ticks by. My boss asks me to stay an extra hour. He needs to catch a plane tomorrow and we need to catch up on the paperwork. So I oblige with a smile and convince my gut "to power through." They instead demand another trip to the ladies. I oblige. There isn't an argument to be had.

Teetering on the edge of sickness and normalcy, I take another small sip on my no calorie soda and snack on some dark chocolate. Mmm. Smooth. Sweet. That always goes down so easy, and this time was no different. Okay then! Maybe it's mostly in my mind? Or maybe I have been sitting on an emotional issue for days and it's instead manifested itself physically? I kind of hope that is the case because at least then I could fix it with a simple conversation or journal-fest.... somehow, I doubt it.

A text beeps in. It's my friend who's father passed away. The memorial is in a week. I clear my calendar. My boss hands me a stack of papers and I stop caring much about the twisted state of my stomach. Or about the importance of the pending paperwork for that matter, but I push it nonetheless.

Time creeps by. 45 minutes more... there is a birthday party I need to try to feel better for tonight. The afternoon drones on and the sky turns black. We're bracing for NorCal's storm to come through. I can feel the weight of the wet in the air.

A call rings through at work. It's another friend, but I can't talk because I am in ear shot of my boss. "It's important." Okay. Oh crap. More bad news. But I still can't talk. I hang up with a promise to call her with undivided attention as soon as this extra hour is up.

T minus 40 minutes to go.

My tummy grumbles. I really can't tell if it's because I didn't finish lunch or it's butterflies, or its just having a bad day with something I ate. Maybe all three. I finish the paperwork and check the news. Obama took Iowa and Britney took another ride to the hospital. Is it tragic that I care more about poor Brit than the pending electoral vote? I bet. I make a mental note to maybe make a resolution after all.

My bowels are feeling better, but the pit sits anxiously there. It's still such a young year and it seems to be drenching down all at once. What was that saying again? Something about the rain pouring?

My boss closes his window and announces "It's really coming down now kid!"

Yes sir, it surely is.

I'm glad I didn't forget my umbrella today.