Lying sick in bed while suffering from intense chills and the regular purging of one’s stomach’s contents from both the top and bottom ends is not quite the weekend I had envisioned.
But things did brighten up significantly when the boyfriend popped over for a surprise visit, one which I was too groggy from the lack of food to comprehend.
J: (while on the phone with me) Open the door
J: Come to your door now
Y: Which one? Why?
J: I’m standing outside your door
And suddenly, an exclamation from my mother outside in the living room put the pieces together. He was standing at the front door of my flat! Not only that, he was bearing a goody bag of magazine, sweets and two bottles of 100-Plus (because of my purging and lack of intake of liquids, I am rather dehydrated).
Y: Yucks, I’m so oily and sweaty and sticky now and you are seeing me in this ugly state.
J: It’s okay. I’ve seen worse.
J: (mumbles something incoherent)
J: Err, you look worse when you just wake up
Note Prada eyebags, and that’s not even when I “just wake up”
Update: It’s a rotavirus that has been causing me such misery. Curses.