Little accomplishments.

I feel like more often than not, I'm writing excuses here apologizing for never writing shit, even though let's be honest, I'm really freaking boring and do boring things and ramble on about my kid. But honestly, I got in a good writing mood last week and it quickly died off once I was UNABLE TO CONTAIN ANYTHING IN MY STOMACH. I don't know if I had swine flu. Maybe I did. I don't know. Whatever it was, it sucked, it sucked hard, and I never want to do it again. I had e. Coli back when I worked for Petland (oh yes, yes I did, with the medical records to prove it), and this wasn't as bad. Very close. Equal suckage. But not as bad. So ever the optimist, I kept telling myself, it's not as bad as e. Coli.

Because it's about being sunny, ya know? Glass half full type shit.

I don't know what the hell my bowels are doing now, seeing as I haven't pooped in like, a week. It was like I went from peeing out my butt to *flick of a switch* nothing. I guess it's better to be constipated than incontinent, but still. The intestines and I really need to get on the same page before I keep sending things their way; which I'm doing more and more now that I can finally hold down solids. And liquids. Hell, anything.

Some highlights of my bought with Mystery Flu included laying in the bathtub with the water running on me until the hot water ran out, then continuing to lay there in the cold water because I lacked the energy to get up and turn off the water, so I yelled for A., equally weak, to come turn it off. When he didn't respond, I tried yelling for, in chronological order, Punky, Bodhi, Lassie, and Kidney Boy (our next door neighbor). Somewhere in that process, I also shit myself. Oh well. I figured the water would rinse it off.

(Note to anyone reading this who visits my house: I have since pretty much soaked the entire house, tub included, in bleach.)

After the first 24 hours passed, I decided I was absolutely STARVING. RAVENOUS. So I drove to Subway and ordered a sub, then inhaled it in the parking lot. Still hungry, I drove down the street to McDonald's and ordered a double cheeseburger meal, then gorged that on the drive back to the house. Then as soon as I got through the front door, I went and threw it all up. Basically, I paid about $10 to rent some fast food for a little bit.

Even our goddamn fish were sick. The goldfish, Redrum to be specific, have some weird disease that I can't figure out. We lost OJ Cadillac and Albert Fish, two of our four fish, to the Mystery Swine Fish Flu, and Redrum looks like he's barely clinging on depending on the day. Ironically enough, despite all of the fish drugs and adversities thrown into that tank, Anna Nicole Fish is still thriving. Sometimes life is funny and interesting.

Anyway. I'm alive. I think we're all finally rebounding. So I offer a hearty FUCK YOU to the Swine Flu (H1N1, whatever) and raise my hand victoriously. And also, I lost like 13 lbs. I fit into my skinny jeans today. Who wants a vile full of this stuff?

PS: Kayla Linzy tagged me in a survey thing. Don't think I am ignoring it; I'm just waiting til I'm feeling particularly witty to answer it, because my life and my responses are THAT BORING otherwise.