Hoo boy, that was fun

You know how some people say, "Oh, ha ha! Look at the time! It's 5:00 and I totally forgot to eat lunch!"  And then normal people respond, "Oh, go fuck yourself." Because those people started thinking about lunch as soon as they finished breakfast.  But anywho . . . I skipped all three meals yesterday and not because I wanted to.  I developed a cold on Saturday and then a stomach virus on Sunday. At first I thought it was just my ovarian cysts acting up and being all bitchy because the pain was more pronounced on the right side than the left. Eventually I realized it was a stomach virus instead. Good times, good times.  I took a sick day yesterday, which killed me, because the company doesn't really separate sick days and vacation days.  I seldom take a full day off for sickness because I would prefer to use that time for nefarious purposes later in the year.

Anyway, it was a quiet day off. Based on the commercials that air during the day (on a weekday), I've concluded that if you are home during such hours, you must be in one of the following predicaments:

• You have a structured settlement but you need your money NOW.
• You've been injured by a careless driver and need an attorney NOW.
• Or, more specifically, you're an injured motorcyclist in that predicament.
• You are desperately in need of car insurance and should call the toll-free number right away.
• You've been injured by some weird prescription drug and should call right away to join a class action lawsuit.
• You're broke and need a title loan (but, good news!  You don't have to give up your actual car!)

The most ambitious thing I managed to do all day was to pick up dog poop in the yard. The dogs were thrilled that I was home all day because my presence meant that they didn't have to spend any time in their crates. We laid around in my bed for a while, watching bad TV.  Occasionally I thought about eating, but not for long. The last "normal" meal I ate was when I went out to lunch with my friend on Saturday. I brought home some leftovers in cardboard containers. Now I cannot bring myself to look at what is in those containers. It's funny how the last thing you ate becomes the villain once you get sick. This explains why most people end up swearing off tequila for some portion of their adult life. The taste is just so distinctive and . . . memorable.

Oh, and the smell of my beloved new carpeting is making me feel a little vomit-y, too.  That's some kind of tragic, I tell you.

I went back to work today. My stomach is still all "don't get crazy" but it's bearable. So, that's my week so far.  I am the speaker at my church on Sunday so I've been busy preparing for that.  Also, my father arrives next week so I need to spruce up the guest room and whatnot. He's coming to see me his granddaughter. My dad's girlfriend doesn't like to fly so they are road-tripping it.  Maybe I should make them stay in separate rooms so that there's no funny business. You know how retired people are with their rock-n-roll and their fast cars.

How's your week going? Any good vomit stories? 

Gretchen, pretending to care deeply about my intestines imploding.