Last night I went to the living room with a pile of books.

Suddenly I was freezing. I turned up the heat grabbed another blanket. And then, then I was in the bathroom. Bucket in hand, dry heaving and hurting. Until dry no more. Ick. I hate throwing up. The exertion of energy and gross feeling and sound in my throat and stomach. Ick.

Of course I thought I would be fine. Must have been something terrible I ate? Except then, I felt the need to put on another sweater and another blanket and hat and shivershivershiver.

Until it was early early morning and I started kicking OFF all the clothes cause I was so damn hot. And I got up and went to the bathroom…

Repeat. That was when I called into work.

Being alone when sick sucks. I didn’t want to get up to get the advil. It hurt too much. I don’t have any gingerale in my house. Blah. I am as whiny as a little bratty girl when I am sick, pathetic when I am throwing up sick.

And since this is this first time in quite a number of hours that I allowed my body to be vertical, I really must go lie down now.