Thursday, December 1, 2011

Even the Coffee Tastes Bad

wBarnonHill

Was it something I ate or something I contracted along the way home?

I can't blame the grands.  I was only able to wave to them as we zipped past their exit on I77.

I know I ate too much for lunch.  I blame The Kid for that one.  He insisted we skip fast food and opt instead for a local diner.  This one on a back road in the middle of Florida offered up a smorgasbord of all you can eat southern fried goodness.  I ate all I could eat....and more.  But that was hours before the storm.

Was it an errant bug clinging to a door handle in a gas station or rest stop?  Lying in wait for an opportunity to hitch its wagon to my digestive tract?  Whatever it was, it was brutal.

Awakened at 1:30 a.m., the rumbling in my abdomen heralded a long night ahead.  I staggered out of bed and began the vigil of ridding myself of whatever was ailing me.

This morning.  This morning, even the coffee tastes bad.

5 comments:

Tim Logan said...

I am so sorry. I felt a rumbling pain as I read your story. I agree it was The Kid's fault.

Audrey said...

Hope you're feeling better soon!

Judy H. said...

Not a fun way to travel. Hope you have all the clean bathrooms in your GPS! Sitting out in the FL sun should bake it out of you.

threedogstudio said...

My sympathy to you.

Marla Logan said...

Ugh!!! Hope you are on the other side of that nasty by now! :)