ode to salmonella

if you spend more than a few hours with cc you'll witness his very successful, monogamous relationship with the internets. they've been into each other for years, with a strength that endures. it's a love that inspires.

or so i thought.

jan one, the day after i poisoned us both with undercooked new years eve chicken, was the first time i've seen cc stray. i knew something was terribly wrong when he left his laptop cold and charged on the carpet and chose to watch the parrots of telegraph hill instead. before he puked his lung up, whimpered and passed out for the twelfth time since noon.

and while i didn't feel my hottest, he was definitely in a much worse spot. so i did a little nurse routine, thermometer/chicken soup/cold compress/heating pad and threw him lots of worried faces. eventually, around 7, he gave up on the life of the living (watching law and order criminal intent) and went to bed. he slept for 15 hours and woke up chipper and interwebz ready. bye bye poison!

or so i thought.

because while i haven't attained the extreme levels of miserableness my poor hubs trudged through along that oregon trail, things have been decidedly... not right inside my tum tum since thursday. i tell myself i'm fine, it's all in my head but then er uh ow stop no okay sob. so while cc's body decided to face the bad stuff head-on with a jets v sharks rumble, mine has opted to fight a longer, less cinematically worthy battle, more like a bullied middle schooler stuffed in trash cans and crippled by wedgies.