I didn't think

I didn't think I'd call in sick to work in my first year, but I just did. For the second time in a week, I woke up with the aforementioned stomach/intestinal crampage. I won't go into the detail I did before, but the explosion out of my mouth didn't happen until this morning. Now I think I'm feverish since I'm shaking a little while typing this and am still cold despite the huge blanket on top of me. I can smell the vomit that is lingering in the back of my nasal passage. It's foul. I'm not a fan.

So I'm sick. Blah.

Fact: Although I'm a big fan of poop/vomit/urine stories and don't hesitate to share my own, my poop/vomit sessions are extremely private. I still lock the bathroom door when I poop, despite the fact that I live alone.

Memory: Everything about living on Underhill: The Best Apartment Ever (except for maybe Brice's).

Next month's theme: Pictures with every post.

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