After fighting it and fighting it, I finally gave in to being a wimp yesterday. Lately, I’ve been nauseated a lot. (No, I’m not pregnant. Don’t even.)
(And why is it that the moment you get married, all of sudden you can’t just be sick anymore? It’s always because you’re pregnant. #newlywedproblems)
I felt so badly driving back from Auburn, that I did several things I haven’t done in a long time.
I bought a Coke.
I know that’s just about the lamest thing I’ve ever said (or typed), but I just don’t drink Coca Cola. However, my pediatrician growing up told me that carbonated beverages made a nauseous stomach feel better, so I caved. And may have even drank two.
It didn’t work.
Then I did something that is the number one indicator that I’ve had a no good, really bad, terrible day (or feel just plain crummy), I asked for Mulan. That’s right. My comfort is curling up on the couch with Mulan playing on the tv. I was so desperate that I asked JRB, as I was getting off my exit, to have a warm place on the couch and Mulan ready for me. He didn’t disappoint.
I barely made it to Mulan’s run-in with the matchmaker before I was OUT. A nap, some Sprite, some Settlers and a JRB-made funfetti cake was the medicine I needed.