subtitle: Maybe Dublin won't be that fun after all.
I think Shithead has given me the remnants of last week's stomach flu. I'm feeling distinctly pale and light headed. This morning's cappuccino had to spar a bit to stay in my stomach (I woke up feeling a bit groggy but put it down to a bad sleep). The thought of food is making me vaguely queasy.
Any wisearses out there who want to suggest that this might only be a bout of morning sickness can kindly shove it up their bums as I am also bleeding out the crotch and crampy.
I don't get sick often, but it never fails to coincide with my period. Methinks I might need some more iron or something in my diet when Aunt Flo's visit is nigh.
I'll beat Shithead to within an inch of his life for getting me sick when I have more energy.
In the meantime I'll be spouting my (almost)never-fail Getting-Sick Mantra:
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
"You Are Not Sick"
....
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