rough start to the week
I’m not going to miss that depicted drive once I move back to Illinois. It’s only winter that sucks but when it sucks it sucks hard. That was my view once it got dark and lasted all through Wisconsin and then miraculously it stopped about a half hour before the border. I get into Minnesota and not a flake on the ground. But cold, oh so cold. Cold enough to prevent me from properly shopping which meant eating whatever I could put together into makeshift meals. Mistakes were made.
I poisoned myself. I’m not sure about the food safety science regarding old frozen leftovers but I will tell you that my body has not been happy with me for the last day or so. Sparing you the details (mostly because I have no desire to relive them right now) I consumed some meatballs of questionable origin. I take that back and am obviously too lazy to edit right now because I actually wanted to tell part of the story…
I rarely vomit. My dad called it a cast iron stomach and it has served me well but when it fails it puts on a show. I am a yell-puker which means that when my body needs to expel stomach contents I am basically screaming at the toilet. Pretty sure my children have some stories they could tell from the few times they audibly endured my troubles. Nobody screws you up quite like your parents…
Anyway, my bathroom backs up to the mailboxes in this building and the height of my illness occurred Tuesday just after the mailman arrived. The truly elderly take that time to grab their mail before it gets stale and gossip about building things. I know this because I accidentally fell into that trap a couple months ago and vowed NEVER AGAIN. It was right then when the worst of my troubles hit.
While gasping for breath (regular throwing up is tough but my vocal element really puts a strain on the oxygenation system as well) I heard the muffled voices through the walls and realized that I was most likely the news of the day. Shitty situation made worse.
I left my place later that day because I needed to wear a suit and give a brief talk in front of a small crowd and the lady down the hall poked her head out and gave me quite the look. (sorry about that sentence I am obviously struggling still) I do wonder how they are spinning the tale. Am I an alcoholic? or perhaps the worlds worst bulimic. Anyway, I think I’m going to keep em guessing by making random noises every day around mail time. Tomorrow will be Tourettes level swearing at the top of my lungs.
I did feel better today and went for a walk out in the not-as-cold just before the sun went down. I will miss my pretty park.
By the way I didn’t notice the guy standing on the bridge until I later walked by. He was not contemplating suicide he was taking pictures and had a friend as a spotter. Not really a suicide spot. You’d get real banged up, worse case paralyzed, maybe permanent cold plunge if no one was around and it was the middle of the night. Okay, I need to stop now.