So a few days ago I went to work as usual to my new fabulous job. Everything was trotting along just fine until the afternoon rolled around. My tummy was feeling a little funny even though I had eaten my standard lunch. Humph. I dismissed it as nothing and kept working.
As the afternoon progressed, it started getting worse and I found myself coughing a dry rough cough and then swallowing a mouthful of spit. Hard.
This, I did not like. I drove home a little gaggy. Weird.
Once I got home I changed into my loose sweats and a baggy t-shirt. I told myself my pants must’ve been too constricting and that it what was causing my discomfort and nausea.
Things weren’t getting any better and I was starting to do that “vurp” thing, you know when you burp but you kinda get a little something extra?
Well, I thought I had things under control but a Taco Bell “fourth meal” commercial shoved me out of the driver’s seat, fast. I glanced up at the tv and saw the shiny greasy ground meat spilling out of a Dorito taco shell and that was that. Puke-o-rama.
Johnny was coming down the hallway when I shoved past him, one hand over my mouth and the other wildly pointing to the bathroom door.
Now allow me to back up for just a moment. I am not a barfer. My last effort was “The Great Vomit of 1998” and there was Jagermeister involved. I’ve always envied those folks who can stick a finger down their throat and just get on with their day. Not me. I will fight it with every fiber of my being, which is dumb because whatever it is, your body is rejecting it, right? If my body is trying to expel something vile, why am I standing in the way?
Well, I lost this round. Let me just tell you folks that this was far and away the most violent vomit of my entire career. It was absolutely ridiculous. Ever try to throw up with your eyes open? Don’t. First of all, it’s uncomfortable and unnatural, secondly once you actually SEE what’s coming out of you, it’s on like Donkey Kong.
Johnny was yelling from the kitchen, “what can I get you!? are you okay?!? good god almighty honey, now I think I’m going to yack”! It was awful. The only thing worse than my experiencing it was him having to actually hear my retching and the subsequent splashes in between. Ah, marriage!
Finally it stopped. I stood in the bathroom shaking. I bent over the sink and splashed water on my face. I gingerly tip-toed into the kitchen and found Johnny bewilderingly holding a glass of ice water with a concerned expression on his face.
“Wow’! I exclaimed. “Holy shit balls, that was something, huh? I feel a TON better!”
Johnny just stared at me. “Um, hon…something is going on with your face”. I went back into the bathroom and looked at my reflection in the mirror. There were dark red splotches all around my eyes, growing darker and more purple by the second.
Did you know that a super violent vomit can actually burst capillaries?
I do now.
So the good news is I felt almost 100% better. The bad news? I looked like Rihanna.
The next morning I put enough foundation on to rival a Tranny. I sat at my desk looking like one of Lady Gaga’s back up dancers. I never figured out what brought on the Great Vomit of 2012 or what exactly happened in the first place. What I do know is I won’t be trying the fucking Dorito taco anytime soon.