Friday, March 15, 2013

I'm in an open relationship with Carbs and it's complicated.

Me: Look, we need to talk. You've been acting really weird lately. And by lately I mean all of the last year.

Carbs: What? Are you kidding me? You're the one who's acting weird. It's been over a year since I've seen some of that endogenous insulin I knew and loved. What is it with all this artificial crap you've been throwing at me?

Me: People change! You vowed to be with me for better and for worse! Also, insulin production wasn't gonna be forever. You knew that.

Carbs: I definitely didn't know that! I didn't sign up for this.

Me: I thought you liked me for my intelligence.

Carbs: Well. I only ever liked you for your viable pancreas. I would've said anything to be able to unite with those dashing beta-cells.

Me: Fine! Then maybe we should see other people. I definitely wanna see less of you. Like, 100 grams less of you.

Carbs: Well, yeah, less is more. Maybe you should look into losing some hundreds of grams yourself.


Carbs: Sure, blame it on me. It's your artificial crap that's stuffing me into your cells like crazy.

Me: This has nothing to do with Novolog. Stop picking on him.

Carbs: Fine!

Me: Fine then. Off you go.

Carbs: You're gonne be so sorry. I am very hard to replace.

Me: Yeah, fast energy, cheap meals, yadda-yadda-yadda. I know the drill. I'll survive.

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