the daily snivel

Death's icy, probing hand has finally reached second base with me, and my insides are churning up horribly as a result. Oh no -- everything's getting dark!

I'm a'coming, Lord! Shine the bright light my way and sound the angel choir!

Food poisoning. Two words that should never go together. Why, food is supposed to be a good thing. A wonderful thing. Food should not poison you. Food should make you feel happy and fulfilled, not achy and feverish and bloated and leaky. Why, food? Why? What did I ever do to you?

After a wonderful New Year's Eve party, I put away the scrumptious feast Natalie prepared for us and stored it all in the fridge, but I think the deviled eggs had been sitting out too long by that point, because I had some for breakfast and have spent most of the past 24 hours in bed feeling like I ought to atone for my sins. In fact, I feel fully punished for them all right now.

Maybe if I can match the fluids coming out against an equal or greater volume fluid going in I'll just manage to see my way through this thing. If not, at least I can skip the first day of school tomorrow.

Gurgle.