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... and whatever you do, don't eat the chinese


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i woke up late this morning. at 6:56 i hit my snooze button, or so i thought. apparently i turned it off instead. so i rushed around like a chicken with my head cut off and got ready for work. as i was pulling out of my driveway, had that familiar feeling that i'd forgotten something... i.d. badge: check. sunglasses: check. wallet: check. lunch: no lunch.
since i'd brought my wallet i wasn't too concerned about forgetting to make my lunch. i'd just buy lunch at work at the cafe. some soup or a salad would be just fine.
my first mistake was not picking salad.
since our cafe got a new manager a few weeks ago, the quality of the daily offerings seems to have improved greatly. the soup du jour has been consistently wonderful, and i often get a small cup of soup on break to bring back to my desk. today i skipped the soup-snack in favor of a big cup of soup for lunch.
my second mistake was buying the soup. eggdrop. it looked great. but what the hell do i know about eggdrop soup?
my mistake first reared it's ugly head a couple of hours later when i got sweaty and shaky at my desk, then found myself uttering between clenched teeth "man, i don't feel so good." my neighbor alisa looked at me, bulged her eyes out of her head and said "girl! you green! whu's wrong wichoo?" i caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and alisa was right. i was green.
then the swallowing started. right before i throw up, i start this crazy, involuntary swallowing thing. it's hard to do when your teeth are clenched together - the other involuntary thing i do right before i throw up. i knew i was closing in on the zero hour, and the bathroom is a long way away.
just then, my phone beeped and there was someone on my phone line saying "hellllooo???" as i gagged for the first time. i asked the lady to hold for a moment so i could "finish my notes from the previous call". of course that was tech support code for "lady, i gotta chunder. hang on." and right there in the trash bin under my desk, i lost my lunch.
for the first time. i don't vomit quietly. it comes with horrible, gutteral, burpy noises; the kind i imagine someone would make after eating steel-belted radials and some swamp mud. my eyes water and mascara runs all over my face. my nose runs. i don't know how to be quiet or the least bit pretty when i'm throwing up. it's bad enough when i'm at home, but knowing that i probably grossed out everybody i work with is just humiliating.
driving myself home about an hour early i realized that when you're nauseated and barfy, motion doesn't exactly settle your stomach. as i rounded the corner from eberhardt road to industrial, the second wave started hitting me. i held it off as long as i could. "as long as i could" translates to "until i got stuck by the train." man, you're nobody till the guy in the caboose points at you while you're hanging out of your open car door decorating the road.
third wave hit when i got home, which was alright with me. in the privacy of my own home; that's where i wanna be when i gotta barf.
i had some dry toast a little bit ago, and i am feeling much better. i might be having dry toast all day tomorow, too. i'm defintely not having the soup.


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  • I'm melissa mcgee
  • From Temple, Texas, United States
  • photographer. singer. soapcrafter. herbalist. dogmom. godmother. fantastic cook. i kiss better than i cook. [all photographs on this blog copyright melissa mcgee unless otherwise noted.]
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