I'm in a hotel room in Chattanooga typing this... I ordered room service, washed my hair, started a new book, and am now watching "Pretty in Pink" and blogging away. "Traveling for work" always sounds much more glamorous than it actually is, am I right? I used to force myself to go out in strange cities, meet new people, blah blah blah. I'd probably have a much more blogworthy story if I were doing that now, but it's exhausting just thinking about it, and I love vegging in a hotel room and throwing all my stuff everywhere. I have a maid here, after all.
Another reason, I'm not out on the town is because I'm preserving and protecting my stomach lining. I had a lovely labor day weekend with friends and then drove down to Memphis on Sunday for a Withers Family Get-Together. I got to see baby girl
and all my aunts, uncles, and cousins. We swam, we ate, we talked, we laughed and had a genuinely lovely time... UNTIL that night when I got home. I went to sleep around 11 with a queasy stomach, only to wake up at 1 with some gruesome form of a stomach bug that caused me to vomit every half hour until 7am. I'm not kidding-- I thought I was DYING. I really did. And is there anything lonelier than hugging a toilet boil on a cold tile floor that is causing your knees excruciating pain in the middle of the night-- when all you want to do in the whole wide world is sleep?? Sleep because you hurt, sleep because you're tired, sleep to pass some time away in what seems to be the longest night in the history of the universe? I'm nearly 30 and all I could think about was how much I wanted my momma. I'll likely think the same thing when I am 80 with the stomach flu, though, don't you think? Life is funny that way...
Luckily for me- my good friend Melissa Tribble
was in town for a visit and staying with me. Around 5am-- I couldn't take it anymore. I woke her up and sent her to Walgreens and told her to get whatever she could find that could A. help me sleep or B.stop me from throwing up--not necessarily in that order. I told her I was dying... I'm pretty sure she believed me. My sweet, Melissa! Again--what would I do without you?! I am on the up and up now, thank goodness! I'm scared to eat anything besides crackers, pretzels or potatoes though-- just in case...
I will never understand what the big deal about Molly Ringwald was in the eighties, right? I totally get the appeal of Andrew McCarthy though! Who remembers Mannequin?!
Yesssss! Hahaha. Okay-- I do believe I'm one commercial break away from the infamous prom scene of "Pretty in Pink" and I've got an early day tomorrow. I just thought my near-death experience was worth at least a few sentences.
A little dramatic? Perhaps. But you guys weren't there. I really think I almost kicked it.
Until next time-
Yours ever,
Myra
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
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