I woke up Monday very nauseous. I couldn’t keep Powerade–let alone food– down. Since then, my days have been filled with intermittent upset stomachs, indigestion, vertigo, and headaches. It’s like someone put a fish bowl over my head and filled it with fog.
WebMD has been largely unhelpful, suggesting I’m suffering from anemia, gallstones, dehydration, carbon monoxide poisoning, and worst of all, pregnancy.
Let me set the record straight– I am not pregnant. Not only has that option been ruled out scientifically, but other people in my office also are exhibiting these same symptoms– and they’re both men.
The weekend before my nauseating Monday was filled with wine and margherita pizza and frozen yogurt and garlic bread. While delicious, I’m sure it only exacerbated my situation. I’ve come to a conclusion: I’d rather be healthy than enjoy some of my favorite foods.
That’s right; I’m okay with saying sayonara to cakes and cupcakes and guzzling carrot juice instead. I’m more than happy to stay away from French fries and opt for an enormous make-a-rabbit-jealous salad. A glass of wine always sounds good, but it always turns into two and then into too much. At this point in my life I am too busy, counted on by too many, and too broke (at the end of the month) to not fill my body with what is best for it.
Besides, eating fruits and veggies saves money– money I’d rather spend on making my new apartment as cute as possible.
Shout out to my lovely friend Lindsay who just bought the cutest house ever.