I'm not sure what I did to piss off the Universe, but as of 3:17am this morning it began exacting it's revenge upon me. I know it was exactly 3:17am because I got a good look at the clock when I woke up drenched in sweat and a tiny alien fighting it's way out of my body without a road map. Well, that's what it felt like anyway.
I turned on the ceiling fan and tried to go back to sleep. Exactly 21 minutes later (I have a great LED clock) I woke up again but with a wave of nausea had replaced the tiny alien in my large intestine. I didn't get sick, although I probably would have felt better if I did. It's kinda like being on one of those cheap amusement park rides were you wish it was over, but aren't sure if the ride will make it to the end without breaking.
It was pretty much lather, rinse, repeat every 20 minutes for the next 3 hours. I finally gave up on even thinking about crawling back in bed. The good news is AMC shows Mad Men reruns early Sunday mornings so at least I'm entertained during my ordeal.
I got a flu shot last week, but it's too long after that to be a reaction. I think it might have more to do with the new Island Fire burger I ate at Sonic last night. On a brighter note I did find a bunch of long sleeve shirts I've been looking for. Apparently I've had a laundry basket full of them hiding in my closet under a comforter since last spring.