I was sitting here eating some tasty spaghetti and meatballs when all of a sudden I felt ill.
Not “omgosh, I don’t feel so good” type of ill, either.
No, I’m talking about “HOLY FUCK! I think I’m gonBLAAAAAAAAWWWWWWHHHHHHAAAAA!” all over the floor type of ill.
And it went on for two days. Non-stop.
I threw up so much in the last 48 hours my tongue is raw. Ewww, nasty.
But, the best part of the entire weekend is this episode:
At one point I was shivering so bad I could barely walk. I thought maybe I should take a hot shower and warm up (stupid, right?) Anyway, I turned on the shower – hot water only – got undressed and suddenly started worshiping the Porcelain God again.
I don’t know if it was total exhaustion, or what, but I ended up passing out on the bathroom floor. I never made it to the shower.
I woke up to a gay looking version of Morgan Freeman hovering over my naked body. And, to add to the confusion, the fire alarm was screaming out at full volume.
Can you say “Twilight Zone?”
Apparently the steam from the uber-hot shower had smothered the fire alarm sensor… and the evacuation fire alarm for the entire building had went off.
It turns out Morgan Fairyman works as Maintenance Staff here. And, as his one act of heroism for the day, he had come to check on me and look for the fire.
That was really cool of you, but one has to wonder; exactly how long were you “hovering there” before I woke up?
Ekk, that’s kinda disturbing.
So, anyway, behaving exactly as a person should under these circumstances, I did what had to be done…
I started throwing up again. Violently.
Morgan opened a window and left.
Ah, good times, good times.
Am I the only person this type of stuff happens to?