And by she, I mean me. Last night, I got sick. Not a little sick but lay on the bathroom floor with my pillow sick. I didn't have much to drink, or so I thought. (maybe it was the egg I put in the fried rice, did it cook all the way? Could be the flu, I have felt pretty crappy this past week, who knows.)
My husband still isn't used to my weird vomit ritual. Yes ladies and gents it happens often enough that there is a ritual to the process. It involves me laying on the floor with my precious pillow waiting for the next round to come with a cold cloth on my face. It happens at least every few months. If something doesn't sit right, it comes out. I have no control over it. One of my old friends used to joke, 'Jen, yeah, she's a puker. She'll be fine in a few minutes' which is usually as long as it takes. Last night, it took way longer than it should have. When I finally went to bed, I grabbed Bernardo to cuddle(which I usually don't do, he stays in the luxury suites), and was out.
This morning, had to get up early to let the carpet guys in to put back the three things they didn't do last week (see carpet nightmares). I think they could tell I was a bit under the weather. Fortunately they were in and out pretty quickly and I got to go back to bed. Slept another two hours, still feel crappy. I made myself eat a piece of toast and am going to make it through the rest of the day. Good thing I have soup, crackers and my precious Sprite.