Saturday after work I did not have to race home to be a mom, wife, maid, or chef. I didn’t even have to come home at all. The family is gone and I am actually still enjoying my weekend to myself.
So I enlisted a coworker to have a drink with me. It was a long week and we needed to have some laughs! Laughs are always recommended. I enticed her with nachos. Chicken nachos. She could not resist. I decided to have a margarita to match the theme of the nacho infused evening…and then I had 2 more. I felt great!!! Really, who doesn’t feel good after 3 margaritas and loads of laughs?
I got home around 8 o’clock. I didn’t want to be home by myself. I called another friend and went to her house for a beer and more laughs. Much laughter! There is just something about becoming fuzzy and laughing until you almost pee your pants. It’s the best. I wasn’t out very late. I was in bed by at least 11. I figured I’d sleep like a dream.
Then…it happened. I roused from sleep with a pain in my belly. It wasn’t like a drunken moment where you need to get to the toilet asap. It was just like a pain…like those tortilla chips were trying to cut their way out of my stomach from the inside. I tried to fall back asleep and ignore it. Poke poke poke went the pain. I decided to go to the bathroom. Sometimes a little #1 makes everything better. No go.
My mouth began to water. Fuck, am I going to throw up? Shit. I kneeled on the floor and stared into the water bowl. It needs to be scrubbed. Looking at the ring around the toilet always makes me want to throw up, regardless of if I have been drinking or not. Sick. I closed my eyes. My mouth still watered. I let the spit drain from my mouth in a steady stream.
I knew it was bound to happen. I drooled into the toilet for what felt like 20 minutes. Finally I decided that this needed to happen so that I could go back to bed. I opened my eyes and looked at the toilet and up and out came the nachos.
The nachos? The nachos that I had eaten at 5:00? My body hasn’t digested the nachos that I ate at 5? It was 2 am…and my food had a good 9 hours to break down and do its thing. It didn’t. At least all of it didn’t. I was so baffled by what was coming out of me and how long it had been festering in my stomach that I was convinced that I had the flu or some bug. This couldn’t be because of the margaritas that I drank between 5 and 6 too? I felt totally normal and nearly sober when I went to sleep….so I thought. I woke up today feeling absolutely fine. Strange.
Anywho…no flu, or food poisoning or any real explanation. Just some nacho barf.