Sunday Not-So-Funday

The original name of this post was going to be 'My Train of Thought' because I was going to write all about my trip down to Dallas on the Heartland Flyer. But something funny happened on the way to Ft. Worth. And basically I blame it on some bad trail mix.

I had such high hopes for the trail mix. It, among with a lot of other snacks, was given to me by our great friend Ana. I promised her a shout-out in the blog for providing it. I'm not sure this is what she had in mind.

Towards the end of the train ride (which really was amusing, I'll post pics later) I dug into Ana's trail mix. I mainly stuck to the dried fruit... you know pineapple, bananas, something orange I believe were apricots.

But as soon as Lou picked me up outside the Amtrak station, I felt something in the pit of my stomach. By the time we got to her friend's house to drop off the car, I wanted to die. I literally walked in their house, almost passed out on their newly-turned 5-year-old daughter, and walked out. I'm sure they wondered who the creepy, pasty, unfriendly guy was. I've also recently learned that as soon as I walked out the mom bathed her entire body in germ-x so as not to catch my bad ju-ju.

Lou and her friend Laurie dropped me off at home and the past ten hours have been a blur. For me, they included intense stomach cramps, a spiking fever and sleep.

For Lou... the past ten hours included bottomless $5 mimosas. Yup, that's what I missed. For hours on end, she and a circle of friends toasted, talked and drank. I'm sure there were many memories shared and new ones made. All the while I managed to catch the last 30 minutes of The Color Purple on BET. It's just not the same.

The good news is is that Lou and Laurie have taken great care of me since they returned home... they were a little loud but I can't complain about the care. I was pumped full of Advil, water and tucked into bed.

It's now close to midnight and I just woke up. I don't want to jinx it but I'm feeling much better. Not great enough to eat yet, but well enough to make you suffer through my Sunday Not-So-Funday.

And the movers come in the morning...