I barely made it home from work Friday before my guts erupted all over the carpet, the floor, the door, my clothes. It was disgusting and I was home alone.
After cleaning up my puke-o-rama. I laid in my bed shivering. Bill came home and took me to the doctor where I got some anti-nausea medicine that worked wonders.
By Saturday, I felt fine ... the operative word is "felt." I was not fine, I just thought I was.
I worked on my class and rode my bike downtown with Margaret. The weather was glorious. Saturday night we watched a movie with some friends (Walk Hard, again. That movie is way funnier than it has any right to being).
Sunday ... ick. Sunday I was sick again. I stayed in my pajamas and missed a party I really wanted to go to. I was too sick to get any work done and too sick to sleep. I mostly ate Popsicles and watched stupid TV holed up in my tiny, back-room sanctuary.
The weather was gorgeous again and I missed it all.
A co-worker just told me he had the exact same thing as me along with the eruptive vomit storm and the Saturday lull.
My neighbors were sick in the stomach as well with e.Coli. Fer reals e.Coli. They have no idea where they got it and luckily they are much better after being down for five days.
I'm managing alright, but am in a sour mood to match my stomach. Being sick can kiss my ass.