Deep hurting

[macguges]

Characteristically, it's times like this when I'm reminded of my status as a meatbot. Early Monday morning my stomach woke me up with a "I'm not happy" informational packet. By dawn I was studying my last dinner in the kitchen sink. This is not supposed to happen. I had been cool with some coughing and dripping, symptoms like those add a acerbic counterpoint to the holidaytime sweetness, but such a bitter metaphor should remain a metaphor, and not become a a literal sourness on my throat. When afternoon came, I had some root beer and chicken soup, which might have been a bad idea, but considering I lost everything by one exit or the other I can't really say. Of course I canceled the interview I had for that afternoon. I did my best to remain still and avoid eating for the rest of the day.

(I haven't forgotten there are some people in worse pain than me.)

I've been able to eat again, but I sense I'm not entirely over this yet. My stomach makes sounds like a mad chemist's lab, and I still have diarrhea, but it's controllable. I haven't been entirely uncomfortable. But I'm still impatient.