Tuesday, 5 January 2016 —
I took a moment tonight to sit and read email at The Senate after work today. I was sitting there and opening up my iPad to look at the day’s numbers, the books for January and return a few messages and emails. I must have looked “intent” when one of the regulars looked at me and said, “Josh! Josh!”. I looked over and said,”yes, hello?” She turned her head and waved her hand as if she was going to get bitch slapped. This must be a common response to me. I’m not generally the most talkative after work. I’ve been on my feet all day talking to people. Anybody that works in the service industry knows the struggle. We struggle with keeping a balanced look on life and maintaining a certain “tone”. I have obviously not mastered this because I think I scared old lady Mandy at the bar. She looked sad and apologetic. She came over about 20 minutes later and I told her, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off so harsh if that’s how I sounded.” She waved her hand and proceeded to give me a back rub. Now, I wanted to scream. I’m determined that she was reliving a fantasy of herself fifty years ago rubbing Rock Hudson’s shoulders. Yuck. Sweet woman, but yuck! I will never say I’m sorry for my tone ever again.
I’ve been on a mission to cut out meat once again from my diet after discovering that I had a parasite in my stool. Yes, this is explicit, but I found a rope worm in my stool the other morning and it LITERALLY scared the SHIT out of me. I am deeply afraid of rare ground burger meat. For five days, I walked around bloated, constipated, nauseated with moments that included projectile vomiting, lethargy and dry throat. I thought I had Lyme disease like Yolanda on The Housewives of Beverly Hills for about a day. I was so tired. I thought, “Wow, maybe I have the flu.” Monday morning arrived and there it was: a rope worm. I must have googled three different types of worms and read every article. Chris warned me about ordering my burgers rare. Last Wednesday, I vomited all over the bathroom while Chris and I were out on the town. For the next four and half days, I did the same thing at multiple points in the day. I was light-headed and now I know who to blame: the little sucker in my intestinal tract blocking my poo and sucking me dry of electrolytes. I’m in recovery. I celebrated with vodka this evening to a new week of feeling much better!
I know that’s not the best choice, but throw stones later, okay?
This morning, I posted a meme that involved various boxes of L’Oreal Feria Pastel Color in a Walgreen’s store. The caption read, “don’t you fuckin’ dare!” So far, the meme is the most liked post of 2016 with almost 300 likes just on my personal page. I also have like 100 comments from people all over North America sharing it on their walls and hairdressers both applauding me and chastising me for posting this brash message to consumers. I took time between vodkas to read the comments from multiple people. Concerned consumers ranging from California to Canada told me that I’m snotty and have a nasty attitude. Some guy also asked me “what made [me] so special?” and “why should someone pay over $200 to see me instead…?” Well, dude. He just doesn’t get it. I have no intention of replying to any of these folks. It was funny! I sipped my vodka and continued scrolling my New York Times app. Never a dull moment on the internet for me, I guess.
One more vodka press down, time to head home…
Note to readers: Food-born illnesses are no laughing matter as I’ve tried to personify in this blog post. If for some reason you feel you have food poisoning, please contact the last two restaurants (or the aunt’s house you visited) and let them know you became ill. It may be uncomfortable, but in the long run, you are helping out the general public. Also, do not order ground beef or bison burgers rare. You’ll ruin your night out with friends. xox- j.