A Buddha Bowl from Hell

I started my Tuesday morning by skipping breakfast and rushing off to the GP for a quick check up. You know all part of #SelfCare.

I was in and out of the Doctor’s office and rushed to catch up on my daily tasks in the office. The usual hustle and bustle.

Around lunch time and finishing off a large bottle of water I left to run a quick errand before my daughter came out of school.

In the shop feeling a bit lightheaded I was reminded that I didn’t eat breakfast and it being a hot day consuming so much water I of course, needed some electrolytes. Or food. Lets call it what it is.

Finishing my shopping I decided to visit a health shop/restaurant that really makes the most delicious smoothies. By now my stomach is protesting like a Shakespeare’s sonnet. Eyeing around if anyone else heard the sighs of dismay my stomach was making. A desperate act to call for my immediate action. Ever felt that? Or should I say I heard that?

I browse the menu and see a section called “build your own “Buddha Bowl”. Well that sounded like a challenge to test my taste buds.

Browsing my options my stomach has now resorted to Bach’s third movement.

I loudly clear my throat in the hopes that the waitress anxiously tapping her foot and chewing her bubblegum would not hear another loud protest bubbling from within my stomach.

I make my delightful selection, spinach, green pepper, carrot and chicken slices topped with tomato and sprouts. Mouthwatering!  The waitress asks : “And Sauce?”

I have a dazed look on my face that if my face could speak it would utter the sound “Huh”? She asks again: What sauce would you like with your Buddha Bowl.

OH! That.!… Ughm what do you suggest? I ask?

Now for those of you that know me, will know, I quite enjoy a little chilly in my food. Well okay, actually a lot. I have at least one meal a day with some sort of spice dipped, sprinkled or splashed over my food.

She replies with a quick selection of Thai sauce. Thinking okay this might work. Buddha meet Thai. Thai meet Buddha kind of situation.

I look up at her, squarely in the eyes, does it have Chilly in? Shaking her head no, she points to a sauce on the menu and smiles sneakily. That one is good.

“Black heart chilly sauce”

Now if there was ever a time that I needed to listen to the Holy Spirit. This was most definitely the one day I needed to pay attention. I think God still wanted to say something but no! Charlene likes following her ego and chooses a sauce with the name like Black heart!

Does that not speak volumes of what’s to come!

Eagerly I pay and rush off to find a tree at my daughters school as Amanzimtoti is in the middle of a heatwave again. #rollingmyeyes

Parked with all the windows open and no one around, I slowly open the container lid. Grab a fork and load it up with cucumber, spinach and of course that sauce.

Reflexes had me gulping the bite down after the first chew. My eyes instantly watered up like a wishing well. Wishing I never took the sauce made of Black heart! I tried to sniff my now already runny nose. Which by the way just felt like I hit the back of my sinuses with a fireball.

I grab my bottle of water. No relief. I sniff again. Gosh that hurt!

I tried another bite, maybe I had too much sauce on the first bite.

What the heck is wrong here! I can’t feel my face anymore. My lips are feeling swollen. Do I even have any lips left? Drop the vanity mirror to see! Trying to focus between the tears in my eyes and the runny nose. I try to speak but I think I effectively burnt the lining on my voice box in the process.

I have this flash.. of those little videos of sexy firemen … man I could do with one! Any Fireman of course.

Taking another sip of water. Why isn’t this working? My stomach has a white flag raised. Laying down arms. I can hear the general calling Retreat!

I can’t finish this Buddha bowl on fire! I put it down and started praying. Now I lay me down to sleep I pray to the Lord my soul to keep… Our Father who (sniff) art in heaven.  Oh Lord help me I can’t think straight!

I try to breathe with my mouth open but it hurts. All those preachers talking about “Focus” and “Mind over Matter” never had any preach ready to match this searing black heart in my mouth. And why? Oh why? Doesn’t it let up?

I start the car and open my mouth over the car’s air conditioner outlet. Some blessed relief! At this point I didn’t give two hoots if any other parent saw me. If someone approached me I would give them a bite of my Buddha bowl and direct them to the same air conditioner outlet giving me relief.

Feeling some relief I close up the lid and put the container back in the shopping bag. Not touching that with a 10 foot pole ever again!

My intestinal tract needs soothing for the rest of this week. I don’t think it will ever be the same again.

So take my advice.

Stay away from the black heart chilly!