After a lifelong love affair with chocolate, we have come to a definitive parting of ways. This winter I had a nasty bug that made me vomit for hours. It seemed coincidental that the worst occurred right after a snack of chocolate pudding.
I responded by following a detox diet for the last three months. Recently, I have been reintroducing meat and sweets, one by one. Chocolate was the latest, just this week.
I finished lunch yesterday with a lovely little sundae cup, mint chocolate-chip. By the time I prepped for work, everything smelled funny. I wondered if maybe our drains were backing up, but nothing seemed wrong.
Went to work, and didn't feel great, but didn't feel sick. Couldn't regulate my body heat, and even had that odd feeling of warmth, but with clammy cheeks. (The ones on my face...)
I ate at lunch break, but began to wonder if my choice of food was all wrong, because it wasn't at all enjoyable. If It weren't for being at work, I wouldn't have eaten at all. Gotta have fuel, though, to make it to midnight.
Put the first edition to bed. Stood up to stretch. Walked straight into the men's room, because that's the only one on our side of the building. And tossed my cookies until my gut felt empty.
Went back to work a little puzzled. Left my seat to speak briefly with an editor. I felt queasy after I returned to my seat.
Shipped the replates for the second edition. Jumped up and ran again to the men's room. And tossed my cookies until my gut felt empty.
At that point I felt much better, although my eyes were streaming and I was damp with sweat. I worked right up to quitting time, just to keep from rushing to the men's room.
Got home all right, but couldn't sleep well for hours.
The whole episode was rather similar to the other chocolate-hurling in February.
Damn. Just when I had convince myself that I could go back to (just a little) chocolate.