Michael and I were attacked by one of the following:
1) The Flu
2) Food Poisoning
3) Sickle Cell Anemia (Lame attempt at humor)
4) Ebola virus (This is the front-runner...)
It was definitely one of the four. It hit me Sunday night, right after Ricky Gervais made his 17th "Holy cow did he just say that?!" remark, which had us laughing hysterically whilst burying our heads in couch pillows due to the excruciating awkwardness. Michael made it until the middle of the night before his body decided to join in on the fun.
The saddest part of this sob story: The last thing I ate before I got sick was a Sprinkles cupcake. I'm not sure I will ever be able to look at one again. Damn you, red velvet...
Anywho, Michael and I spent Monday and Tuesday in bed, commiserating together over our poor luck. I pathetically saluted MLKJ's dream in between my own dreams. We realized last night that we actually slept more than Thumbs. I rocked an awesome hairdo that would make Marge Simpson jealous. Michael managed to remove his retainer a mere second before upchucking. My stomach, back, neck, and EYEBALLS hurt from ralphing so much. I distinctly remember telling myself at 3am that no matter how cold/good the toilet felt, it was not a good idea to rest my head on it. I refuse to admit whether or not I listened to that voice.
HOT COUPLE ALERT.
We both went back to work today and by 9:30 were emailing one another asking if it was time to go home yet. We clung to our caffeine-free drinks and saltine crackers and by this evening found something we'd lost for days: our appetites.
The only upside to this tragic tale? My pants were huge on me this morning. I realize this moment will last exactly 37 seconds but I'll take it.
*HUGE thanks to Michael's parents for bringing us Sierra Mist and Saltines. I don't care how old you are, when you're sick you just want your parents. From the bottom of our hearts and empty stomachs, we are so grateful.