If this post seems weird, it is because I currently have a fever of 101/102 degrees. In fact, I am pretty sure that I am dying. I have spent the past 12 hours vomiting the contents of my stomach--several times despite the fact that it was empty after oh, say round 3.
Seriously, I am sick, sick sick. The sickest I have been since having the baby. Or maybe since my own birth. Not sure if it is something I ate (Chinese and a raw egg anyone? Don't ask) or something I caught, but either way, I feel like one of those 100-year-old fish from the bottom of the sea whose scales are peeling off and is almost happy when it gets hooked. As in: Yay! I get to die already. Hmmm... That metaphor might sound really weird when it is not 2:30 a.m. and I am not delirious with fever. At any rate, there you have it.
Here is what I have learned today: Moms don't get sick days. Thank G-d I had arranged for an afternoon babysitter because a.) In addition to whatever the hell this is, I also caught a deadline Thursday night for Fri night, so I was working all day and b.) Babies are scared of loud vomiting. They cry and cling and require much therapy to recover.
Since R had taken the day off last Thurs to take me to the ER, I was not going to ask him to stay home. Besides, I thought it would pass. And it has--like a semi truck passes in a narrow Italian street, ie. not well. I think poor Sam thought I was yelling at her, or G-d knows what, but any rate, I am now earmarking her piggy bank change for the therapy she will need after today.
By this afternoon I was pretty much catatonic and kept falling asleep and waking up to find Sam in all sorts of fun places, like eating my (plugged in) phone charger for instance. Yep, good times abound. Why am I not sleeping now, one might ask. The answer? I am not really sure. I would like to be and perhaps soon will be, but as of now, I am uable to fall back asleep. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that my stomach feels like it is being slow boiled. So, instead, I am writing a blog that may or may not read like some of my drunken (and worse) diary entries from college that were really funny to reread the next day.
Only this is a public forum. Oh well. We can all laugh together when I feel better. If I feel better, that is.
So, just in case, I say goodbye dear readers. I have loved you all.