The Dry Heave is Not a New Dance Move

You know those questions that you don't ask because you don't want to know the answer?

I had one of those on Wednesday.

I was so desperate, in fact, not to know the answer that I carried the question around with me from 6:30am until 3:30pm.

It was the first day of school, and whereas I'm usually all "woohoo! yippie!", I was more like "I WISH FOR DEATH. AND SLEDGEHAMMERS."

I did not want the answer mostly because I knew what the answer would be.

Q: Why does my head feel like a rhino it sitting on top of it?

Q: Why am I expelling big, bloody, phlegm people from my mouth?

Q: Why am I lurching into the toilet between classes?

A: Because, my friend, you, after 19 consecutive happy-go-lucky first days of school filled with rainbows and butterflies and pink pony pee, have the flu.

**yes, Evie is vaccinated; no, obviously I was not. let the finger-pointing and name calling ensue**

So I am drinking Nyquil in such copious amounts that its legality is questionable. But it makes me feel so good...and it turns my dizzies from the imma-gonna-vomit-on-your-face kind to the feels-like-im-jumping-on-the-bed-but-im-not kind. And that is always a good thing. Real good.