Well the week hasn’t continued as it started. Yesterday morning at 3am I awoke feeling very strange indeed. This resulted in a sudden dash to the smallest room of the house where my chief concern swiftly became whether I should be sitting on the loo or crouching in front of it.
Frankly I felt totally destroyed for the entirety of yesterday and apart from multiple dashes to the toilet I eventually ended up in bed for almost 36 hours.
To make matters infinitely worse this meant that after less than three weeks in my new job I had to phone in sick with probably one of the most overused and half backed ‘sickness and diarrhoea’ excuses known to man.
In my mind it practically screams ‘I can’t be bothered to come in today and this pathetic excuse was the best I could come up with at short notice.’
To add insult to injury my OCD is in freefall thanks to the dent yesterday left in August’s exercise stats.
On the plus side I think I managed in the space of the last 36 hours to throw up or evacuate everything in my entire body and barely managed to hold down 6 satsumas late yesterday evening. This means in real terms I’ve eaten practically nothing (although I’ve had plenty of fluid) for almost two days.
Since I still have zero appetite it’s highly likely I’m not going to end the month worrying about a weight gain as this week started really well from an intake and exercise perspective – so I guess every barf laden cloud has a silver lining.
Anyway – many apologies internet for the grim subject matter – but this is a ‘warts n all’ blog so the rough comes with the smooth. Now you know all the gory details.
You’ll get a more upbeat post when my stomach stops doing cartwheels and my head stops spinning.