Death by LA

You know when you eat Pumpkin Pie, just so that it doesn't go in the trash, because you know that someone out there doesn't even have pie, let alone a Thanksgiving so you feel bad when there's 3 WHOLE PIES in your fridge, and okay a few slices won't kill you since you are working out so hardcore every day, but then you wake up yesterday at 3am and puke your brains out for 4 straight hours because said pie was probably bought at some shitty grocery store, thus giving me food poisioning and leaving me so weak and tired that even making toast was a 2 hour task.

Oh, you don't know what that's like? Well, I do.

And it totally fucking sucks.

I'm at work today only because I was so happy that I felt somewhat normal. That I haven't puked in 24 hours made me very, very happy. That my fever is gone made me happy too. But I'm still pretty weak and just sitting upright is becoming nauseating. So I'll be going back home pretty shortly, so I can sleep for the rest of the day and night.

I talked to Dominic last night about how it's no fun to be somewhere else when you're sick. Although, I'm not a baby when it comes to this stuff. I don't like someone touching me when I puke. It makes me feel worse. And I don't like going to a doctor who is just going to tell me to rest and eat soup and drink plenty of water. I know the best way to get rid of this is to just flush it out of my system. Not having a fever anymore is one surefire way of knowing I'm almost done with this mess. Keeping cereal down is obviously the other. Keeping pie down would be the ultimate test.

But I'm not testing the pie. Ever, fucking ever again.