I want to be healthy
But I can’t be healthy
‘Til I stop eating fast food!
I can hardly stop myself from bragging about my intimate acquaintance with the Norovirus. I told myself no. I would never go to a fast food restaurant after 9 pm again and yes I did. No, no one wants to hear about this, but yes I will write about it.
There is some humor here. I did not catch this unpleasant disease on a spendy cruise nor in a group home but on a Thursday night so I did get Friday off! Thank goodness it didn’t kick in until after Elementary was over. I actually looked at the CARL’S JUNIOR FISH SANDWICH and noted that the paper was hot and it had probably been under the heat lamp for several hours, before I ate the entire thing. In addition I saw the young man in the take out window drop the can of whipped cream on the floor before finishing the application to the top of my chocolate shake, which I drank completely.
Luckily Norovirus is something you can get many times in your life because there are just so many fashionable variations. It’s like a sexually transmitted disease in that it can easily be shared with friends without their consent. It’s a simple disease involving the inflammation of the stomach and intestines, at the same time. This means all of the contents of said receptacles will be eliminated, at the same time.
The one thing I don’t remember from the other time I got this was the mental issues. The last time I had norovirus also from CARL’S JUNIOR on NORTHERN LIGHTS in ANCHORAGE, ALASKA I might have been on less medication or none at all. My brain did some funky things this time. When I finally got to sleep after an 8 hour process of elimination I was quite delirious. My dreams were rapid fire and screwball. I woke up not quite knowing what was what and slept the entire next day. Well, not quite. First I had to call work and email them twice in an anxious panic that they were all going to regret ever knowing me and they had better dowse the entire building in bleach. This may have had something to do with throwing up my anxiety medication.
Then I made the mistake of driving on Saturday. I got lost on Benson Blvd which is pretty much the main drag in my area. So I decided to walk to the store and forgot my keys thus locking myself out. I bought some opera tickets which I may regret only because I don’t even know what is playing next season. I wound up in line at a store thinking I had no idea how I got there. I bought some brownie mix with a recipe for a peanut butter brownie pizza on the back. I can’t possibly eat that. I did have some green jello at home so I ate that instead.
I also decided to get on OK Cupid and message all men who were any less than 50% enemy. Some of these were in Alaska and some were in France. You can’t be too picky when you have norovirus.
I guess I was a bit emotionally and physically run down before all this. I got back from a visit to my sister and her husband in L.A. My vacation mode is to store up as much silliness, talking, walking and eating with them to last an entire year. I was sleeping poorly by the time I got back because I had worked myself into a activity frenzy. Funny, I can do this at work as well. The night I got sick I attended two events before arriving at the fated Carl Senior’s son pad. This was probably overdoing it and contributed to my bad judgement.
The first was a craft event in which I participated. I am an AWFUL crafter. I took part because it was for charity and it kept me busy this past AWFUL winter. I pretended not to notice my projects and put my name tag down on my hip where no one could see it. That said, I obviously did not spend as much time as some folks did on their crafts. On the upside, this may mean that I have slightly more sanity and a life. Afterwards I went to a writer’s talk where I realized everyone in Alaska is getting their novels/stories about hunting, fishing and dysfunction published. I have no hunting or fishing stories. My stories take place in safe environments where my brain becomes dangerous. Therefore I can’t take advantage of the Alaska reality memoir frenzy.
Those two events probably wouldn’t cause norovirus but I also biked to work that day. Great! I got some exercise but now I’m down 6 pounds in water weight and won’t be biking for another week or until I can responsibly cross the street without zoning out.
I don’t want to get too down on CARL’S JUNIOR. I can’t prove that my one night stand with him made me ill. No one at work where I ate lunch with 30 other people got ill. I haven’t heard of anyone at the crafty thing or the writer’s talk losing their snacks in a projectile manner. I will write the management a little note. I will not be nasty, perhaps just silly.
Dear Management of Carl’s Junior, W. Northern Lights, Anchorage, AK
I regret to inform you that within 15 minutes of finishing an edible but sad to say not fantastic cod fillet and a mediocre chocolate milkshake (I couldn’t really taste the chocolate) I found myself in my bathroom for 8 hours straight while my body attempted to dislodge all evidence of this meal by any means necessary. I don’t intend to sue you or anything but I thought you might want to put up some warning signs like “Staff, throw out the stuff that has sat under the warmer for more than 15 minutes.” If this seems too wasteful perhaps a warning to the customer such as “We reserve the right to serve meals that have been prepared for the evening rush for the rest of the night. Please eat at your own risk.” Really, I should have known better when the hot paper wrapper was practically heat sealed onto the bun.
I don’t want to be picky but why is the person handling the money also handling the food? Why also did his assistant drop the whipped cream container then continue to top my shake? The more important question is why did I pay for and eat this?
Date and time of incident – Thursday April 25th approximately 8:45 pm at the drive thru window. I did have a good fruit shake there once.
See, I’m not that depressed. I believe things can change. I’ll let you know what I hear from them, if I do. I played the maid in No No Nanette many moons ago. I’m good at cleaning up messes on stage and off. Here’s a photo of me way back when I didn’t have even 6 lbs of water weight to lose.
Marjorie, Me, & Anna
And some mismatched words from my favorite song The Where Has My Hubby Gone Blues
Of all the meals I had to choose
I honestly did not want to lose you.
So tell me do, who’s the who,
Givin’ me these where has my 6 lbs gone blues?