Whoever said “sleep it off, you’ll feel better in the morning” obviously never had food poisoning. Well, I’m assuming that’s what I’ve got. I’ve spent the last 48 hours crawling in and out of the foetal position with my eyes screwed shut, breathing through crippling gut pain. I won’t go in to detail, but let’s just say my stomach is as flat as a pancake and everything else has been grim with a capital ‘G’. Fucking seafood.
As with all things though, the bad can be accompanied by the good. I had a blinding Friday night watching The Wytches at Electric Ballroom with my beautiful friend Shauna, so at least the weekend wasn’t a total write off. She also took expert care of me yesterday when last night’s dinner decided to wreak havoc on me. Bless her heart.
When I (eventually) feel better, I’ll put this bad boy on and dance around a bit, and write something a bit more interesting.