Ugh. I say again, ugh. I’m sitting here in our hotel suite, with sun streaming in the windows and I’m wearing a COAT. I’m wearing a coat because I’m freezing to death and I feel like death.
Last night my husband was sitting beside me, eating the-salad-that-would-never-end. He was crunching and munching and making all kinds of repulsive chewing sounds and would NOT STOP, in spite of me chanting over and over again, “Do you have to be so gross? Do you have to make THAT SOUND?” Then… shudder, he started eating cookies. Fifty hours later, he finished those three cookies and I thought, hmm, maybe I’m just a wee bit sick. Just a wee bit. Maybe.
When we left Albuquerque on Sunday morning, our daughter was in bed, having been up all night, throwing up violently. I haven’t picked up so much as a cold, for at least 5 whole years, so this is not happy for me. Whatever it is, I’m feeling a bit better this morning. I’m not heaving or anything, I generally feel queasy and not much good for anything at the moment; and grumpy, but I’m sure you didn’t pick up on that.
I tried watching TV, but, oh my goodness, have you seen that horrible “Carl’s” commercial where the surfer guy eats their new, pineapple Teriyaki burger in his van while he obsessively pokes the lame hula dancer doll on his dashboard? That commercial is all kinds of gross when you have an upset stomach. I can’t bear to think about it.
Until tomorrow. I’ll be laying around a lot today. Not watching TV.