It’s been a while since I last puked. In fact, it was either late May or early June 2003, and it took place in the Taco Bell drive thru line while sitting in the back of my former-roommate’s boyfriend’s car. It was not awesome. In any case, it’s rare. And I’m glad, because the thought puking almost makes me cry.
Just now, I was sleeping on the couch to shake off a kinda crappy feeling and woke up with the taste of vomit in my mouth. This used to happen quite a lot about 2-3 year ago, mostly blamed on stress-related acid reflux; I slowly became addicted to orange-flavored chewable Tums. So, it was less than lovely to wake up with the taste of stress-related puke.
I woke up completely incoherent, and even asked Riley where I should throw up. Of course, I got mad at him when he didn’t tell me. I sat on my bathroom floor while the feeling went away and realized I really need to clean my toilet. Looks like I have something planned for tomorrow
Yuck. Now I don’t want to go back to sleep, because I don’t want to wake up all pukey-feeling again.