Inside This Mind.

11.11.2007 * 4:52 a.m.
my aching guts

I don't have much free time for the internet these days and it makes me kind of sad.

Old Gypsy dog is actually doing quite well, she just had a tough time last weekend. Now that she's on some antibiotics and other wonderful things, she's feeling fine. That's a relief.

Yes, I am awake at 4-something in the morning, but it's not really because I want to be awake. Oh no. Let me explain.

Yesterday was my birthday.
Festivities began on Friday when my classroom was decorated with a poster and birthday cards made by my students. I also got candy, roses, and balloons from my coworkers. Needless to say, I feel loved.
Saturday morning my parents insisted that we go out to breakfast as a family. I knew something was up, but didn't exactly know what. When we got to the resaurant, my boy was there waiting for me. He had a balloon, a card, roses, and my old flute newly repaired. He also was standing with three of my favorite friends, which was a complete surprise that made me extremely happy. It was a good morning.
I then went to a bridal shower for a friend. That was good because I got to sit around and talk with a few ladies I adore. On the way home I stopped and bought some new, hot boots with a birthday giftcard. I was feeling pretty good, enjoying the rain, and looking forward to the rest of my evening.
Barry then took me out to dinner. The fact that I got dressed nice and let him drive me somewhere was kind of exciting because we rarely go on actual dates anymore. We went to a nice Italian restaurant and I ordered chicken cannalone. It was cheesy, rich and creamy and I loved it... until about 3 in the morning. At that point I began to want all of the chicken cannalone out of my body - immediately.
(Don't tell Barry that I vomitted my birthday dinner, okay?)
I am currently having some of the worst abdominal pains I've had in a long time, so going back to sleep hasn't really worked out for me. That cheesy, rich and creamy dinner wasn't such a good idea afterall. I'm afraid to tell Barry because he doesn't eat dairy products, goes on and on about how bad they are for adults, and thinks that "dairy" should be removed from the "food groups." If I tell him how terrible my guts feel right now, I know he will have absolutely no sympathy for me.

I just want to go back to bed, but I think I'd better go back to the bathroom.

I hope you are all having a better night/morning than I am...