We’ve been here at The Butterfly Ranch for a week now, and things are going well. Unpacking is progressing nicely, and we are about to start the Great Organizing.
But that’s not what I came here to talk about today. Oh, no. I spent most of last night throwing up my dinner AND my lunch. When there was nothing left to throw up, I dry-heaved.
Food poisoning is not a pretty thing. At one point, I was curled up on the bathroom floor with my bath towel over me, twitching and moaning. Around 3:30 this morning, Freddie had to practically drag me out of there, and he set me up with a trash can and stuff so I could continue retching from the comfort of my bed. What a sweet boy.
I’m a big, giant baby because this wasn’t even a very severe case of food poisoning. I’m fine now, for instance. If it were fish-related, I can imagine I would still be in the bathroom. Ugh. But I can’t remember the last time I dry-heaved, and I used to be a champion booze drinker. Now I’m just on the JV team, what with the baby and all, but I have had my moments.
Still. The dry-heaving? Not recommended. I think I pulled a muscle on my chest at the base of my neck. I’m pretty dehydrated and although I made Freddie go buy me some Pedialyte, I’m not sure if my stomach will tolerate it just yet. I need to consume something soon, however, or I’m going to pass out from lack of calories.
I feel really, really terrible. I’m sure not sleeping but maybe an hour or so didn’t help my case much, but I’ll survive that.
Oh, where did I contract this lovely case of Barf-o-rama? Chipotle. This disturbs me, because I like that place, dammit. Now I can’t eat there ever ever again, ever. EVER! This SUCKS! Or else it’s Mother Nature’s way of smacking me upside the head for eating fast food, especially after all the disgusted bitching I do about it. I can honestly say I have learned my lesson, and aside from the occasional Arby’s run (hey, PMS sucks and Arby’s sauce cures everything), fast food can suck it.
I’m off to Target now. We’re out of TP.