The Worst Way

…to spend Christmas is heaving over a toilet. I don’t know if it was something I ate, a 24-hour bug, something caught from a friend a week earlier, but it has been a really long time since I’ve puked my guts out. I wish I could say it was because I party hard the night before, but I’m seriously an old woman who really doesn’t do that anymore.

What’s worse, is being seriously sore because that’s how violent it was… The Beau swears he has an iron stomach so he’s okay with eating the leftovers. I haven’t touched them. I refuse to touch them. I told him he could eat anything he wanted at his own risk. Then I have to remind him not to make me laugh because it really hurts to laugh.

So, I haven’t eaten a whole lot this weekend. I was still kind of weak Saturday, and today I seem to be doing a lot better. I’m still being careful with what I eat and how much I eat. Devouring things sounds good, but I know better.

I haven’t taken any pictures, and we’ve packed most of the things up to try and get the apartment picked up. We are moving into a bigger place by the middle of January, so I may be light on the pictures for a little bit. I’m waiting for the laundry to finish up so I can climb into bed. Sadly, I have to go back to work tomorrow, but it’s only for four days and then a three day weekend, yay! And 2016 is going to be here before I know it and, potentially, before I’m even ready I think.

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