Nothing, and I do mean nothing, gets me awake, up, and out of bed faster than a mouthful of stomach acid. Even hearing someone unload a full clip from an AK-47 into the house of a neighbor two doors down didn’t inspire me to get to my feet that quickly. (Of course, that was just so fucking surreal that I actually had to ask my girlfriend if I was hearing gun fire. This just re-affirms the truth that I already knew: I am not Street.)

The basic problem with acid reflux (for me) is the fact that I can’t lay down for hours after it kicks in. That, and the fact that I have no one but myself to blame as I only get it when I eat too much dairy and grease. Alcohol may be a factor, but I’m not sure. I do know that I can have it without alcohol, but not without dairy and grease. This is why I have only twice whipped out the most amazing chicken parmigean on the planet. Because no matter how good a meal is, if you spend the rest of the night puking up stomach acid every time you lay down, you strike it from your repitoire. It’s like homemade biological shock treatments that go on for hours.

Anyway, that’s not why I have acid reflux tonight. I have acid reflux tonight because I’m a fucking retard, and decided to celebrate the closing of the old watering hole by having the ravioli with the bacon cream sauce. (I’ve had it once before. It didn’t give me acid reflux, but it did give me an ear infection. Which *maybe* should suggest to myself that I *not* eat so much damn dairy.) Between that and the alcohol and the uber-greasy tortilla chips I insisted on eating, I’ve successfully fucked up my digestive tract for the next few days, and will be celebrating the new year sans alcohol, because I am NOT having another night of acid reflux if I can help it.

Which is, quite frankly, probably for the best. At the very least it means that I can, in fact, be taught.

Now if the neighborhood drug dealer could be taught not to piss off people with guns, I could quit getting up for three hours a night.