More tales of woe

You're gettin sick of hearin about it, aren'tcha?

We're payin for not havin black-eyed peas on New Year's Day.

First, it was my toothache and my trip to hell that was called "prompt care". Then the Zigster gets some kinda bug that I was patting myself on the back for avoiding. Then my damn ferret dies. Then I find out that the kids can't come for Christmas until the LAST FRIGGIN WEEKEND IN JANUARY. Hell, by that time, we might as well celebrate Valentine's Day, too. Kill two birds with one stone. I know...we'll call it "Christmastine's".

And now? Well, remember that bug that Ziggy had? Mmmhmmm. It found me last night and kicked my ass. Probably payback for managing to elude it for a week.

Good gawd. Why is it that some kinda nasty gastrointestinal bug always strikes at night? I swear...I don't think I've ever had one that started during the day. Do they only come out at night or what?

In hindsight I know that it actually started yesterday. I just felt bad, but nothing I could put my finger on. But the real fireworks started at about 1 am and continued on until...oh...about 9 this morning. Eight hours of non-stop bathroom fun. Not.

I won't go into the gory details. But trust me...they were gory.

I feel like I've been run over by a truck.

Ooooo...I shouldn't a said that. That'll be the next thing.