I did something yesterday I haven't done in 2 and a half years: I called in sick. I know it was a chicken sandwich I bought from an outdoor vendor that attacked me from the inside out, leaving me with a very unpleasant night.
I won't go into all the gory details, but I'll go into a few of them. I went to bed at about 11, knowing that something was about to make a violent escape from my body. I hoped sleeping would calm things down, but alas, 2 hours later I was on the floor in my bathroom with my head in the toilet, praying for it to stop. I spent the majority of the night in the bathroom, alternating my head and my butt on the receiving end of the toilet. Occasionally I'd get a short break from the madness and try to get to sleep, but I was alternating between sweating badly and shaking because I was so cold. It was not a fun night.
It finally ended at around 5 am, and when my alarm went off at 6:45, all I could think was "no effing way", then called in sick and slept a good couple hours.
When I woke up for good, I felt mostly okay but my day was plagued with frequent trips to the bathroom. Still, it was a great, unproductive, restful day, and it was just what the doctor ordered. I did no cleaning, no laundry, no organizing, no house-selling. I sat around and watched TV, and it was everything I'd hoped it would be and more.