Yesterday was a day I like to forget. I prefer to imagine my life without it happening at all. It was a day of recovery from a very bad night, and before you jump to conclusions, it wasn’t “that” kind of night. If only it was. I was dehydrated with the worst hangover in living memory, without any of the fun and games (and inevitable regrets) that normally goes along with it. I suffered from a spell of food poisoning, that, me thinks, was a result of mushroom sauce. No, it wasn’t “that” kind of mushroom sauce; I’m still trying to find a restaurant that will serve me “that” kind. The kind that makes you fly.
I spend most of the evening hugging a white, flushing, very cold, porcelain bowl, retching my lungs out. Continue reading