don’t throw up in the bathroom of a Tim Horton’s restaurant.
there are no paper towels, and the hand-dryers just won’t suffice.
the queasiness is subsiding a bit, but i’m still dealing with the Point in the Meal When Food Becomes Evil. something will sound GREAT, for example, a sub sandwich or an omelet, but right in the middle of the meal, usually mid-bite, the food becomes repulsive and i cannot bear the thought of finishing one more swallow.
what kind of grown woman spits out her food, anyway?
only a few more weeks left of this, they say. but then again, they also say, “just keep some crackers near your bedside and you’ll be fine.” they are wrong a lot of the time.
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