UGH

I don't mean the 'ugh' like the Indians ugh.

But they probably did say that when they saw the white man invading their land. (Although some of them stopped saying "Ugh" long enough to say, "The rabbit died" or else I wouldn't be here).

No, I'm saying ugh because at one a.m. I woke up feeling....irritated. Hot. Mean. Husband was asleep with his glasses perched on the end of his nose, his book laying on his chest and the lamp on. I told him if he'd turn off the light I could sleep better.

Then I stomped into the bathroom where Daughter was STILL in the bathtub after, like, six days or something. I grumbled at her too.

And then it started. I felt something welling up inside me and I  yelled at Husband to get the pan! He knew what that meant, and he got there just in time.

I threw up.

You know the drill, you pour sweat, you shake, your vision gets black spots. Husband scooted the chair in front of me so I could lean on it.

Now, Daughter hates puking. She literally runs from it.

But she was trapped in the bathtub. Awww. after only six days.

Anyway, Husband helped me get back in bed, where I had a chill. Then I went to sleep.

And woke up at two a.m. and started all over again.  Except this time Daughter had escaped to the down stairs. Her bedroom is too close to the gagging sounds.

It's afternoon, I'm not sick anymore, just a pounding headache and weak. My head feels like it weighs a ton and my eyes don't want to stay open.

So you'll pardon me if it's a short blog.

Ugh.