Donkey burgers and everything else taste like ass when you’re beset with whatever evil demon has made its home in our guts this weekend. Jen and I have been the victims of what I suspect to be ebola, but Jen is inclined to think is just the flu. At least Mira is in the clear — for now.
When you’ve been puking and pooping (read spraying) clear liquid for 8 hours straight, it’s amazing where all the gunk comes from. Then the onset of sore joints and limbs from dehydration, (Jen’s assessment again — I was surmising scurvy.) “We need electrolytes,” she says. So many gatorades later, I still feel like shit. The lack of caffeine in my routine is giving me headaches that only vicodin is countering. Good thing we’ve got cable and tons o’ movies to occupy time. Between the hourly naps, anyway.