I got some sort of bug this week that laid me out for most of it, causing me to miss a few days of work. The worst part, though, is that this bug ended my streak. There’s no delicate way to say this, but I hadn’t thrown up since eighth grade. I don’t know why, exactly, I just hadn’t. I’ve been sick plenty of times since then, and I’ve even felt like throwing up many times since then, I just never did. My personal theory is that I hated throwing up so much that I just decided not to do it. Apparently that only gets you so far – 23 years in my case.
Turns out I still hate it as much as I did. It’s terrifying and gross and I hate it. Worse, it’s caused me to not trust my body anymore. For 23 years, it’s been, “Hey, I might be sick, but at least I know I won’t throw up.” Now I no longer know that. If I don’t know that, what else do I not know? It might seem odd to you, but I’m on pretty unsteady footing right now.
Ah, well. I had a good run.