Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now!

Holy week's supposed to be the week of penance, sacrifice, & self-suffering in honor of the death of Christ.

The timing couldn't be more perfect for my suffering and misery.

Most people during Holy Week are most probably frolicking on the beach, out of town, or out of the country, celebrating summer, celebrating whatever.

Me?

Nah...

I have work.

I'm supposed to be at work, earning double, even triple for services rendered during the holidays, but no... My body decided against it.

I probably have been food-poisoned again.

My tummy says so.

The bathroom's become my bedroom from Monday to Wednesday. Nevermind that my entire body's aching & shivering from fever & coughing & asthma. When you gotta go, you GOTTA go.

Thursday, I went back to work, thinking that I'm somewhat ok.

Friday, my body decided to fall apart.

I started puking my guts out the moment I parked my car in the garage. Good thing I was already rolling over the garage's tiled floor when I started puking. God knows how hard it is to clean up puke in the car. God knows it's harder to get rid of the stink. Nevermind that I ruined my clothes. I will never ever puke in my car!

I hate puking. It's a disgusting body function. We shouldn't have been made to puke. Bowel movements I can take. At least my asshole doesn't have taste buds. Puking is a different story. I like food. I like eating. I like savoring the different flavors. But not when it's already digested & mixed with stomach fluids & what-not. I puked because I'm sick and I puked from being disgusted from puking because of me being sick.

It's one of those moments that make me wish I were being tortured like the characters in Quentin Tarantino's Hostel. That ankle slashing scene looked far more pleasant than what I was going through that very moment.

I didn't want to puke anymore. Again, it's disgusting. Plus, try puking at the same time your mom's yelling down on you, "Are you pregnant?! Are you pregnant?!" Hell on earth. She should have just left me alone to puke in peace. Of course I'm not pregnant. I think...

I cried because again, it's disgusting. I cried because I wanted to puke & puke & puke but it was so disgusting. I cried because the puke won't come out but I still felt like puking. I cried because my tummy felt like someone just punched the daylights out of me. I cried because I wanted to cry. I cried because I stank of puke. I cried because they were going to bring me to the emergency clinic looking & smelling literally like a nasty Portalet left under the midday sun.

I thought things were going to be better at the emergency clinic, but wait, my misery was turning into pure agony.

Ever had your stomach pumped?!

If you had, don't you just feel like murdering the doctor & the nurse that told you it would be alright & it wouldn't hurt that much?

Why didn't they just reached into my mouth with their bare hands and yanked my guts out? That must feel more pleasant than having your stomach pumped.

I officially hate doctors & nurses now. No matter how hunky & nice they look like. Doctors are evil.

I've been advised to stay away from solid food for a while. I'm not stupid. I'm not going to eat after what I've been through.

Hah! Who was I kidding?!

Whn I came home, lo & behold..... Pizza & KFC was waiting on the table!

Just when I said I wouldn't eat. Just when the doctor told me to eat baby food! Just when I have been craving for pizza & KFC for months now but have been too lazy to buy...

Someone very inconsiderate decides to order those two things!!!

I hate everyone here in this house.

Heaven knows I'm miserable. I am so miserable right now.

There's still some leftover pizza & chicken in the fridge. Maybe..... Just maybe.....

Nah..... Just thinking about it made my stomach growl & it's not because of hunger.

I'm so damn miserable.