ugh.

So we all went out to dinner Sunday night over our long 4th of July weekend. As the appetizer's arrived at the table, I felt a little bit strange. By the time the main course arrived, I was unable to converse very well and felt a little glassy-eyed. Sound familiar?

At least I knew what was coming and was able to jump into a rickshaw to go back to the resort before it really kicked in.

Again. Me on the bathroom floor. In the fetal position. Writhing in agony. Remembering what I had told you all about going to the hospital and demanding a morphine drip if it ever happened again.

This time, at least, it didn't last quite as long and I was able to crawl into bed and sleep, if fitfully. I made it home in one piece, though the hour+ car ride back was slightly oogy. I made it to work, but was not quite right for many days. Going to sleep at 9:00 and not eating anything at all isn't as bad as it sounds . . .