So pleased with my ability to eat grits

My day got an early start when I jerked awake at 3:30 with the distinct impression that I was about to puke.  I jumped out of bed, ran into the bathroom, and... nada.  A lot of saliva and dry heaving.  Huh.

I still felt pretty nauseated, so I stood and waited.  I figure my technicolor yawn would be along any time.  The thing is, I was totally bareass.  And we turn the heat down at night.  Before long I noticed that it was COLD and I was not going to be able to just stand there all night, debating my puking status.

I got back into the warm bed for a few minutes, then ran back into the bathroom.  I realized that if this kept up (and it showed every sign of doing so) then I would not be the only one awake.  So after returning to the bedroom, I fished around in my sock drawer in the dark, found my warmest pair of socks, grabbed my robe, and headed downstairs.

All the animals were thrilled!  Somebody up in the morning means they all get fed.  The many pre-dawn runs that JD ran this year have trained them that morning is not necessarily after the sun comes up.  So, I fed all of them and then retired to the recliner to wait out my stomach.  First I took an acid reducer and a gas reducer to try to calm the unhappiness in the tum.  They only barely stayed down.

I read some, trying to distract myself.  It worked pretty well.  I was surprised to check the time and find it was already 6:30.  The lack of sleep started to hit me pretty hard, so I went back upstairs and checked into the guest room.  Propped up on pillows, with a cat behind my knees, I zonked out.

At nearly noon, I woke up again.  And ran for the bathroom again. Wow, that had already gotten old.  I contemplated returning to sleep, but in my dreams I had killed someone and I was A) still feeling pretty bad about it, and B) still worried about getting caught.  Sleepy logic is bad logic.  Instead I decided to rejoin the living.  I meandered around the house with some water, taking the occasional sip.  After a few hours I felt up to trying a water cracker.

And so, my day progressed.  I'm proud to announce that I'm up to tea with honey, and grits.  Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to eat fruit.  Or vegetables.

All my officemates?  I'm sorry, but this seems to be reasonably contagious.  Looks like a four day incubation period.

And that walk I was planning today?  Not so much, if you don't count the sprinting to the bathroom thing.

Snot much

You know what's stinky?  When  you have a ton of fun plans for the weekend, and they all get derailed by a virus.  Viruses are so small that you can't punch them in the nose, but I sure want to.

So far I've missed riding Pluto, hiking, brunch at Silver Diner, and bricklaying.  (I don't feel too bad about that last one.  )  While I was asleep, JD set the bricks, started the laundry, and got the Halloween decorations out of the basement.  When I got up briefly, he went up in the attic through the hatch in our bedroom and fixed the remote unit for our ceiling fan. And then he made a lasagna.  Meanwhile, I didn't have the wherewithal to take a shower.  It's good that one of us is getting things done, but I'm feeling that our relationship is a bit lopsided this weekend.  I haven't even been alert enough to hold up my end of the conversation most of the time.

According to google, I should stop being infectious some time Monday.  Monday's a holiday.  So I'll be able to go back to work on Tuesday without worrying about my coworkers.  Which I do, you know.  I try not to infect people if I can avoid it.  I feel that it's my civic responsibility not to spread sickness.  I rate it about as high as stopping at intersections where the traffic light is out.

Writing this post constituted my exercise for the day.  I'm going to go blow my nose and sniffle some more.