Don't read if you're eating!

Don't read if you're feeling nauseous or you're eating. It's a little graphic:

Well, I didn't get to go diving. Shit, I was annoyed.

I happened to get a beautiful little thing called A Bug. Apparently there is a stomach bug going around. Luckily I wasn't visited by the bottom end of the bug, but the top end of the bug. Let's just say I was bullimic for the weekend. Good grief. It's horrible!
It started early on Saturday morning with a migraine. Oooh *shudder* they are fucking horrible. Let me describe it: Dizzy, nauseous, have to be in a dark, quiet area and basically I feel like my head is going to explode.
I begged my boyfriend: "Baby, pleeease cut off my head."
BF: "What?"
Me: "Cut off my head. Seriously. I think it will be less painful."
BF: "What am I supposed to cut your head off with."
Me: "A chain saw. That will be quick."
BF perplexed: "We don't have a chain saw. Besides, as much as I love Quinten Tarantino that's gross."
Me: "Seriously? Why don't you have a chainsaw? C'mon! Ok. Just kill me then."

I had to go out to drop something off for a friend. It wasn't far and I thought it would be alright. It was until I had to drive home again. Well those waves of naseous are fun, aren't they? It's amazing. My breathing started to deepen, my mind was screaming: "Don't do it, don't do it!!"
I managed to get home, pulled into my driveway but as I climbed out, whoops! The wave dumped me... I vomitted and vomitted and...well you get the revolting picture.
I wish that was it. Oh no, Murphy's Law and I are good 'friends' remember? Our neighbours were having a party/braai and their guests all just happened to be arriving.
I cannot tell you how mortified I was. There are no words.

The whole day carried on like that. If I put a morsel or drop in my mouth it came straight back up.
Sunday was another tamer version of Saturday. Today my stomach feels a little sensitive from all the hurling. Hmm, charming.

My boyfriend is absolutely delighted. I know you're thinking I should dump the insensitive bastard then, but he's delighted because he thinks I have morning sickness.
"I'm not ok?"
BF: "But you could be! I hope it's a boy!"
My turn to look perplexed: "Have you hit your head? Don't be ridiculous."
BF rubs my tummy, crouches down and talks to tummy: "Hellooooo little one!"
Me: "Oh my God! Stop it! You're being silly. You should be worried I'm bullimic, not pregnant!!"
BF whispers to tummy: "Oooh, she's already moody!"
Me: "Oh fuck it! I'm too tired for this crap. Get away from my stomach before I throw up all over you."

It was an, um, interesting weekend!