There it is world. I've got the lactose intolerance and it has me. It's not really a secret, 'cause if you know me then I've told you all about it everytime the ding-ding of the ice cream truck is near or someone brings a cheesecake into the vicinity.
But guess what? Today? I had a strawberry milkshake at lunch. And for dinner? I snacked on a variety of middle-of-the-line cheese and crackers.
You're thinking I am quite a rebel, right now, aren't you? You are probably impressed by my lack of concern for consequences and that I am probably the type of person that travels to a foreign country alone with nothing but my wits and a moist towelette. I go against the grain and I do what I want. But you are wrong. 'Cause I just forgot. For about the 100th time, I forgot that I can't eat these things. In fact, I didn't realize it until JUST NOW as I started this post even though I have been having stabbing pains in my gut ALL DAY LONG.
Damn you, dairy industry and your happy cows and delectable treats! You are the Joker to my Batman with your dastardly tricks.