Fuck Being Sick

... I'm a cult of personality!

Living Colour was a great band. Yeah. But anyway, I hate being sick. This morning before work, I blew chunks. Now, normally that wouldn't be terrible but I could see pieces of egg and bagel I'd had a few hours earlier that I hadn't digested in it. It was quite disgusting.

Then, I got to work. We turn the lights off at night, so I had to go into the back room and flip the breakers to turn the lights on. Lieing on the floor in the back room, in a small puddle of its own (feces?), was a dead rat. Now, this also wouldn't be too terrible. However, the guy who closed on Saturday night turned the heat up to 85 degrees Fahrenheit. Now, from my estimation, the rat had to die at some point after 11:30pm, so it had about six hours at most to stew in the very hot, confined area. I have absolutely no way to describe the stench which greeted me when I opened the door to the back room. Needless to say, I lost the lunch I hadn't even had yet all over the dead rat and cement floor. Terrible.

So tonight for dinner, I made myself a bowl of Progresso minestrone since my stomach was feeling a bit better after some sleep. Nope. Tossed that up into the w.c. a few hours later. Meh. Fuck this. I'm going to bed.