Ash Wednesday

February 9, 2005

Last night’s Mardi Gras party was a lot of fun. It mostly consisted of most of us standing around in the kitchen and talking and laughing. Erika and her roommate had gotten a fair amount of snack-type food, so there was plenty to bunch on, but so that I wasn’t eating snack food for dinner I picked up a yummy turkey sandwich at the Wild Oats grocery store just down the street. A lot of people that I didn’t know were there, but since I had an “in” with one of the co-hosts, I felt important. I snacked on mints and trail mix, had a couple of beers I’d left over there, and had a pretty good time.

I started to fade about 11 PM, and even though there were still a lot of people there I just went and laid down on Erika’s bed and went to sleep, knowing I’d have to be up at 6 the next morning. I woke up this morning and actually felt kind of sick–not illness sick, and not hungover sick–but just in a general state of ill-being. My stomach has been bothering be all morning, and despite a couple of Rolaids this morning and two soothing Diet Cokes (good for what ails ya, eh Dad?), the combination of my overall fatigue and stomach problems was enough that I almost considered calling in sick today and taking it easy.

Almost.

I knew that if I called in sick I’d just sit around, watch TV, and play my game all day. Not what I’d call a bad time, really, but I have too much here at work that I need to do, and I want to save my sick days for days when I honestly can’t or shouldn’t be at work. You know, like the days I came to work a few weeks ago when I was sick but had used up too many sick days already on days when I could have dragged myself into work? Yeah. I figure I probably just ate something last night or yesterday afternoon that my body didn’t like, which means either lunch or my sandwich for dinner. I’m not actually feeling as sick as you may imagine and just dancing around certain unpleasant details, I just have a mild case of the stomach troubles. Nothing like when I ate dinner at that quick Italian take-out place in Beloit (the name now escapes me…Dan and Kristine, help me out here? In the Wal-Mart shopping center next to Burger King?) and had food poisoning the next day when I flew home to Portland. Actually, it was a combination of being hungover and having food poisoning, but let’s not split hairs, here. Let’s just leave it at the fact that you don’t want to fly when you’re hungover and have food poisoning. Take heed, travellers.

And now off to bed.

Posted in Beloit, Erika, Food, General, Work