Anyone know how long an opened jar of spaghetti sauce will keep in the refrigerator before you should not use it? I think I found out what's too long.
And it had to be the spaghetti, because Murphy's sick, too.
EDITED AT 10:34PM TO ADD:
Fever. Sweats. Vomiting. Body temperature up to like a hundred thirty degrees. Every burp tastes like spaghetti sauce.
Nausea. Chills. Not enough blankets in the whole house now. More vomiting. There is NO WAY I ate as much as I've been heaving up. No way.
Aw, Hell--I recognize that. I had that breakfast. Last Wednesday.
Back to bed. Buried under 60lbs of quilts, a wool cap, and a mildewed raincoat I found in the basement. I swear that I will not get out of this bed again. The world did really end on May 21st, at least for me.
Cue sound of dog running into other room and vomiting on the floor. Aw, come ON now!
Just shoot me, someone.
And dog vomit smells like...spaghetti. Ulp!
Calm down....slow, deep breaths. Think Brigid cookies.
And Murphy, if you try to scratch your ear through that cone one more time, you're sleeping out in the car.
If I die tonight, bury me with my M60 and a couple of cans of ammo, just in case the crossing of the River Styx is contested. And my 1911A1, because that M60 will never keep running for all eternity.
EDITED AT 1:13AM TO ADD:
Why is it when you wake up and feel like it should be dawn, you look at the clock and see that it's only been about an hour and a half or so? That's just not right.
If I die tonight, everything I own absent the guns mentioned above goes first to Audie Murphy and then to whoever blows up the Food Lion Generic Spaghetti Sauce Factory.
On the plus side, I'm not dead yet.
That's a good thing, isn't it?
I was supposed to fly in the morning. Photo flight. That's not gonna happen.
EDITED AT 4:48AM TO ADD:
Emergency Action Drill: Wake from semi-death and determine the need to be somewhere else immediately. Find prosthetic leg in dark and attach by feel as quickly as possible. Run through dark room, regardless of obstacles--or dogs--in the way.
I initially set up a routine and practiced this to repel bad guys who might decide to drop in suddenly after hours. It also works when suddenly sick, I've learned. Instead of grabbing ballistic vest and weapon, run to bathroom--for me--or patio door--for dog--before bad things happen (because if you vomit on the floor, then the terrorists have won). Success rate thus far: two out of three, or 66%. Murphy needs to be trained to give me a bit more warning before he barfs.
Old NFO, why are you up at 3:16 AM?
Will this night ever end? I hear birds outside. I think they're vultures.
EDITED TO ADD AT 10:34AM:
Well it's morning. I woke up to one of my neighbors sitting on his patio a couple of hundred yards away talking loudly on his cell phone. Seriously? So I came in here, found this video, and played it as loud as I could out the window a couple of times.
He seems to have gotten the hint.
Breakfast attempt of dry toast and water didn't work so well. I think I'm going to be on the Karen Carpenter Diet Plan for a while.
Cookies might save me, Brigid...specifically those big flat ones with just a touch of coconut.