This is twice now.
It started a month ago. The first bout was more annoying than debilitating: headachey, weak, not sleeping well. In other words, and let’s be honest, sick enough to whine but not really compromised enough to call in to work.
Unfortunately, this proved to be nothing more than the… forgive the term… dry run.
What seemed like low-grade nausea by last Friday Morning turned into excruciating stomach pain by the evening, and I spent the next five days basically tethered to my oubliette. I couldn’t sleep, could barely eat, and I spent a couple of long afternoons drafting tentative agreements with whatever foul deity was in a position to relieve my agony in exchange for my soul.
But you know what I can’t stand, even more than being sick?
Using my chicken broth. Especially for something so pedestrian as actual chicken soup.