Saturday, September 1st, 2012. 6weeks, 1day.
Yesterday is a bit of a blur.
Since we were on the brink of a holiday weekend, the office closed two hours early. Score!
I took advantage of that time and drove up to meet the husband about an hour-ish north of here at a hotel, where we dropped off my car and our bags, and then took off to head to MSU for tailgating and the big game for the husband, and my planned hangout with an old friend.
But then, the craziest thing happened…
Turns out IT’S A HOLIDAY WEEKEND. And we weren’t alone on the roads.
I swear to you, millions of other drivers were out yesterday, and they were all going where we were. I mean, what with the last travel weekend before school starts, move-in weekends at all the state colleges, and college football starting up, we really should have known.
It was fine, though. We made it to East Lansing, if a little later than we would have liked, at least relatively on time. Only a few things had to be glossed over in order to make our commute faster.
Like food.
Because the office closed early, I never ate lunch… only a late breakfast of hash browns, peppers and cheese, covered in hot sauce. And I don’t even LIKE hot sauce… Hmm.
We skipped dinner in lieu of making better time on the roads, and I knew that once we got into town and I had met up with my friend, we would go someplace where I could get some food.
Foolishly, I hadn’t packed any snacks with me, either. Dumb, Tracy. Dumb.
I was fine when we pulled into town. The husband slowed down the car enough so I could tuck and roll safely onto a street corner, where I was quickly collected by my good old friend Chris, who I haven’t spent much time with since high school.
The husband got to the game safely and on time, and Chris and I ventured into Lansing to find food, trading sarcastic remarks along the way. We picked up right where we left off in school…
Just like old times.
We ended up at a barbeque restaurant that had only opened a few months prior. When we sat down to order, I started feeling… not so swell.
I chalked it up to hunger.
I ordered big – pulled pork, mac and cheese, and cheese fries with bacon chili. Oh yes.
I ate eagerly at first, and stopped when I felt myself filling up. I knew it wouldn’t be beneficial to be overly full so early in the evening.
After dinner, my digestive system decided it was unhappy. I assume because of the unexpected consumption of so much hot sauce earlier in the day.
Chris and I walked along the river in town for a bit, and then headed back to the car to find a sports bar where we could watch the game.
On the short drive to the bar, my digestive fortitude began to decline at a rapid pace. It was a relief when we arrived.
Chris and I found a spot on the abandoned patio, figuring the fresh air would help. I promptly ordered some water, popped about five pieces of the mintiest gum I could find, and headed to the bathroom.
Over the course of the night, and the whole entire game, I was in the bathroom more than I was out of it. I never actually got sick, but I was sure that vomit was imminent.
I heard the game end as I was kneeling over a public toilet. (MSU won, by the way!) Shakily, I got myself washed up and back to Chris. We talked about our options, and decided the best thing would be to head back to his house, which was mercifully close by, and I could wait there for the husband to pick me up after he made his way out of the post-game melee.
The car ride back to Chris’ house was short, but unfortunately meat-scented due to the doggy-bag we’d left in the car while we were watching the game. Needless to say, we enjoyed some fresh air with all the car windows rolled down.
Once we’d arrived and I had sent a text to the husband explaining the urgency with which he needed to collect me, I retired to Chris’ bathroom where I promptly voided the contents of my stomach.
Let me just say this: pulled pork is delicious, but coming back up, it’s pretty much like barbeque-flavored sawdust. Ugh.
By the time the husband arrived, I was pretty much empty. He and Chris talked sports for a bit, and Chris supplied me with several plastic grocery bags and some paper towels… you know, for the wretched forty-minute drive back to the hotel.
As we were leaving his house, I thanked him for his hospitality.
“I’m so sorry about tonight. I am the worst date ever. I’ll make this up to you someday, when I can eat again, I swear.”
To which he replied, sarcastic as ever, “As dates go, spending the night hanging out with a married, pregnant chick who spent most of the night in the bathroom, leaving me to chat with the waitress who had a boyfriend, and then taking her home where she puked all over my house is not my ideal date. However, it’s definitely not the worst date I’ve ever had, which is pretty sad. You might look like crap, but at least you were good company.”
Just like old times. 🙂
In closing, I’ll say this… I was able to keep whatever stomach contents I had left for the entire drive home. (Thankfully. The husband does not tolerate such things well, and it really wouldn’t have been a picnic if we were both up-chucking on the side of the highway.) I felt a lot better by the time we reached the hotel, although I was exhausted. We slept well last night, and got breakfast on our way back home. I had several other snacks throughout the day today, and have felt superb.
I just finished two pieces of pizza, however, and have this ominous feeling that I may not be able to hang onto it as long as I’d planned…
So many people have said that 6 weeks is when the morning sickness started for them. I didn’t expect 6 weeks to the day to bring on a sudden after-dinner sickness like that!
As miserable as it was to be sick away from home, I went to sleep relieved last night.
Something is in there. Something that is trying to teach me when, and what, to eat. Something that punishes me when I get the answers wrong.
Something is in there.
Well… not something exactly.
Someone. 🙂
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