|This looks about right!|
Of course the first two rounds were a wonderful combo where I had to sit on the toilet and puke in a bucket, (and all over myself), simultaneously. I hate puking. I'm not a big fan of liquid poop either, but given a choice, the lower option is far less traumatic. It was hell on earth I tell you, and hell is much colder and smellier than I had imagined it to be.
It took several more days for me to feel human again, and I am still having small bouts of nausea with certain foods and smells.
|I'm the one on the right|
I called my good friend and cried for a bit and she asked if I wanted to go out for dinner. I'm horrible with decision making to begin with, but worse so when I'm upset. I hadn't had a good solid meal since the flu and was seriously craving some rare roast beef for the last couple of days. I initially said no, and then I said "well I probably should leave the house, it has been a long time. She and her boyfriend picked me up and we were off to Texas Roadhouse.
Mind you, I have never been to Texas Roadhouse so I had no idea what to expect other than lots of meat! I knew Swayze wouldn't be there nor would Jeff Healy, so my expectations were low.
It was PACKED! 45 minute wait. The staff all looked to be about 15 years old and they all had employee shirts on that said "I love my job" on the back. I was thinking about using that on my bars shirts, as a cruel joke. I don't think many in the restaurant industry can say straight faced that they love their job.
|Me, in a heavenly state|
Fast forward to being completely satisfied and over stuffed with bread and potato while driving through Danvers Square.
Looking out my passenger window I notice that the Kentucky Fried Chicken sign is completely lit up and it now says Kentucky Fried Chi.
My chi is southern deep fried... funny I always assumed it was dark chocolate.