Hello friends...I seemed to have lived through my hell weekend. Oh, I forgot to tell you about my near death weekend, didn't I?

Well it all happened Sunday night when Linds & the mum-in-law convinced me to go The Old Spaghetti Factory. I wasn't going to go at first - I wasn't hungry and was quite tired. But they twisted my arm, so off we went. The plan was that I'd just accompany them but wasn't going to order anything - I was going for the outing and because I have a hard time saying no to those two. But, as it turned out, the place was packed and we had quite a wait to get a table so, by the time we were seated, I'd grown a little peckish.

I ordered the plain spaghetti with tomato sauce, which came with salad/bread. (The devil himself must've cooked it.)

We got home around 7:30 and I felt overly "stuffed"...I knew I should've stuck with Plan A and opted out of ordering food. By midnight I knew it was much more than a "full" feeling and soon thereafter became violently ill. Like I wanted to die kind of sick. I had severe abdominal cramps and had to stay in very close proximity to a bathroom. And a bucket.


I spent the entire night running back and forth - from bucket to bathroom. Not a pretty sight. Thank God I don't drink anymore...I can only imagine if alcohol were factored into the mix. Anyhow, by 7:30 a.m. I was exhausted, but too sore to sleep. I think it was around noon that I finally drifted off (semi sitting up) for an hour or two...then the symptoms changed from vomitting/diarrhea to chills/hot spells & aching everything. Mostly my head.

I swear to God, if a dumptruck had barrelled along my street I think I would've jumped in front of it. Well maybe rolled in front...jumping wasn't possible.

Bad, bad, BAD stuff.

So I'm quite convinced the restaurant tried to kill me and I'm sad to say that I'm probably turned off of spaghetti forever. Damn - it was my favorite too. Today was my first attempt at looking at food...very bland, teeny portions. So far, so good. This is a whole new diet plan...I lost 6 pounds overnight. Brutal.

I've never experienced anything like this and I can quite honestly say death would've been a better time. The only reason I didn't go to the hospital was because Linds was home in bed and I didn't want to disturb her (although I came to learn that she heard me puking all night).

I had to be at a meeting at her new school today so I dragged my ass out for that...I even felt good enough afterward to make my shift at work (despite having called my boss yesterday for the day off). So it seems I'll live. Which is a good thing because hockey season's coming up.