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To say things did not go as I planned since my last post would be an understatement.
Yes, I rode my mountain bike on Friday, and it was excellent, as was celebrating Wifey’s 49th birthday that evening. Saturday, I dedicated myself to sloth and outside chores. Sunday was to be a day of hiking with my camera. That’s when things started falling apart.
I packed all my camera gear and my macro extension tubes and headed to Bundy Hill. When I got there, I saw that there were about seven cars in the small lot. “Screw that,” I thought and drove on to the Hall’s Lake Preserve.
I got out of the car, got my gear, started out, turned my camera on, and nothing. I left the battery in its charger back in the kitchen!! DOH!!
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After a few minutes of debate, I decided to go home. I find it nearly impossible to be out in the woods without my camera, and my phone was not going to bring me joy. Sigh.
So, I went home, made lunch, went for groceries, and then enjoyed a night of slack. Then things went pear-shaped. Again.
Before bed, my stomach started to rumble in a way that let me know that things were about to get ugly.
I will spare you all the details other than to say I spent the rest of the night and most of my Monday—a day I was supposed to go riding at the Cadillac Pathway—sitting in the bathroom cursing whatever stomach bug had entered my lower intestine and turned my colon inside out.
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I slept, shit, and cursed—sometimes at the same time—through the day and into the evening.
Finally, around nine, I started feeling a bit better. I ate, went to bed, and only had to get up a couple of times during the night.
I have no idea if I picked up a bug, ate something bad, or if my organs are finally revolting after three months of abuse. This wasn’t the first time I’ve dealt with this issue in recent weeks, so I sadly feel it’s the latter.
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Either way, I’m really hoping to be done with it and get back to life outside of the bathroom. Apparently, there’s a whole world out there!
Later.