Sick

Took a sick day from writing today. For record-keeping’s sake, this entry is actually being written way after the fact. I’m not sure what happened, but I suspect that it was a reaction to an increase in dairy products that I ingested.

Yeah, I don’t know either. I have this on-again, off-again dairy reaction. Sometimes I can eat cheese and ice cream with absolutely no consequences. Sometimes I cannot even handle the small amount of milk that goes into my morning coffee. My tummy swells with sharp pains that no amount of farting can release. I am forced to lay down, hunched over on myself. The easiest way to get past it is to sleep it off.

I first figured the whole thing out in college. I tried to be a good, responsible girl and woke up early enough to make breakfast in the dining room. My favorite meal there was cereal and milk. I’d chow down on a bowl of grape nuts and honey, and end up missing all my morning classes, laying in bed, recovering from the morning meal.

One day I realized that it was the milk that was making me sick. Of course it took several missed classes and suffering grades for me to figure the whole thing out.

And why I decided to share that little bit about myself is so beyond me. My apologies. **

Six more days of my job. SIX. I am counting down the days because I’m getting pretty darn tired of dealing with people.

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