24 Hours of Toxicity
I meant to write earlier but I am just getting over a 24 hour bug and/or food poisoning. Literally, it lasted 24 hours. I also still need to write the next couple of parts of the story of the move and of course eventually post pictures of the new place. But first, let me regale you with the story of the BUG.
On Easter Monday I woke up in a somewhat foul mood. I was grumpy and tired and just thought I was suffering post tramautic stress from the move. We took a nice walk, visited the playground, cleaned up a little and then had some dinner. As I finished my last slice of pizza, I felt that good old familiar tummy voice "Girlfriend, your ass is mine. That was one slice of cheesy pizza too much. See you in hell, motherlover!" So I told the Husband that I had to lie down and I hoped that I would fall asleep and get through the pain and the sweats and the chills.
The Husband put the Kid to bed and then headed to ours. He crawled in beside and me and whispered "Hey, the Kid's asleep, want to" He never even saw the remote control being launched at his temple. For a couple of hours, I lay in fetal position, cursing Easter Monday. I had big plans the next day, HUGE... that I had to cancel and I was not happy. As the night went on, the trips to the toilet increased. Yes, disgusting, but we've all been there. Then the next part started - I believe the Latin term is Vomitus Allotus. Around 4 in the morning, as I sat on the cold toilet floor, contemplating a sick selfie for Facebook, I made a vow to eat healthier. I know I keep making that vow but it seems to have more gravity to it as you have your cheek pressed against your pink and black tiled floor. Sidenote: our toilet came with a name. And we know someone with that name. Awesomeness.
Anyway, now that I have made my sacrifice to the porcelain god, I feel that it is my responsibility to fulfill it. I am going to try and eat more organically and fresh - avoid pizza unless homemade (sob) and try to avoid another 24 hours of hell. In the exercise arena, as of next week I am going to start biking to work. This will definitely be a challenge for the first few weeks. I haven't biked in about 4 years and when I biked to work all those years ago, it only took about 15 minutes. The new place of employment is now about a 35-40 minute bike ride. Note to self: Buy baby wipes for an at-work whore's bath. Even if I can bike 3 times a week to work, that will be an accomplishment and will definitely give me a jumpstart back into the exercising game. I haven't been working out all and I feel like I am turning into veal. Old veal. But there is still life in the old girl yet!
And so, today's meal plan is:
Breakfast: Freshly squeezed orange juice
Lunch: Hummous and rice cakes
Dinner: Blended "creamy" vegetable soup with gnocchi
Giddy-up
On Easter Monday I woke up in a somewhat foul mood. I was grumpy and tired and just thought I was suffering post tramautic stress from the move. We took a nice walk, visited the playground, cleaned up a little and then had some dinner. As I finished my last slice of pizza, I felt that good old familiar tummy voice "Girlfriend, your ass is mine. That was one slice of cheesy pizza too much. See you in hell, motherlover!" So I told the Husband that I had to lie down and I hoped that I would fall asleep and get through the pain and the sweats and the chills.
The Husband put the Kid to bed and then headed to ours. He crawled in beside and me and whispered "Hey, the Kid's asleep, want to" He never even saw the remote control being launched at his temple. For a couple of hours, I lay in fetal position, cursing Easter Monday. I had big plans the next day, HUGE... that I had to cancel and I was not happy. As the night went on, the trips to the toilet increased. Yes, disgusting, but we've all been there. Then the next part started - I believe the Latin term is Vomitus Allotus. Around 4 in the morning, as I sat on the cold toilet floor, contemplating a sick selfie for Facebook, I made a vow to eat healthier. I know I keep making that vow but it seems to have more gravity to it as you have your cheek pressed against your pink and black tiled floor. Sidenote: our toilet came with a name. And we know someone with that name. Awesomeness.
Anyway, now that I have made my sacrifice to the porcelain god, I feel that it is my responsibility to fulfill it. I am going to try and eat more organically and fresh - avoid pizza unless homemade (sob) and try to avoid another 24 hours of hell. In the exercise arena, as of next week I am going to start biking to work. This will definitely be a challenge for the first few weeks. I haven't biked in about 4 years and when I biked to work all those years ago, it only took about 15 minutes. The new place of employment is now about a 35-40 minute bike ride. Note to self: Buy baby wipes for an at-work whore's bath. Even if I can bike 3 times a week to work, that will be an accomplishment and will definitely give me a jumpstart back into the exercising game. I haven't been working out all and I feel like I am turning into veal. Old veal. But there is still life in the old girl yet!
And so, today's meal plan is:
Breakfast: Freshly squeezed orange juice
Lunch: Hummous and rice cakes
Dinner: Blended "creamy" vegetable soup with gnocchi
Giddy-up
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