Since I can't keep anything inside my body I haven't eaten today. I went an hour without sickness so I forced myself out of bed to shower and then hobbled my sore body to the kitchen to make a piece of toast. Yesterday, there was a half a loaf of bread in the pantry. This afternoon there is not one slice of bread! What are the Little Rottens doing, Carbo-loading? Jeeze!
As if on cue the damn pantry door jumps off of it's hinges. Like a drunk man trying to cop a feel it falls on me. Please tell me, how the hell does this happen?
I mange to deflect the bifold door off of me. It lands in the hallway. So there I am with one arm holding my fluffy, red towel on my body, trying to get the dog away from examining the floor door while cursing and wrestling to get the door up before J2 comes home bringing the Saltines, Gatorade, and Pepto I've requested. I can only imagine the string of, "Steve-isms" and 'this is why we can't have nice things' comments when he sees that in this state of sickness I've destroyed his home.
In the meantime I've gulped down a glass of skim milk. I'll see if milk was a bad choice.
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