I woke up. Something in my stomach is churning. My brain says that I should get up and do something about it but I’m too comfortable where I am. Slowly, I sit up and think about it some more. Maybe I can wait and it will pass. I think about lowering myself back down again but then my stomach decides for me. A mixture of undigested solids and putrid liquids spews out of my mouth and onto the bedclothes. This has instantly given me a lot of work to do and if I don’t deal with it soon enough, the after-effects will ruin the rest of the day. But my priority is to make sure that my stomach has finished its business so I make a beeline for the bathroom. On my way my foot catches the door and I bang my toe. This reaction causes me to lose control of my stomach and I fire blindly into the void of the bathroom, knowing that I’ll probably hit anything but the bath, sink or toilet which gives me even more work to do. Then I hear voices telling me what I should and shouldn’t have done but it’s far too late for this pointless advice. Still, everyone loves a nag…
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