Under the Weather

I am under the weather, both literally and figuratively. We are expected to get upwards of 5 inches of rain in the Atlanta area today and tomorrow, and I feel like I've been hit by a Mack truck.

We made the fateful decision to stop in Ocala, Florida on the way home yesterday and indulge in some good ol' barbeque (I won't name names, but it used to be one of my favorite places). As we were leaving, my stomach was gurgling somewhat, which I often take as a sign of a good meal. It's like my stomach is telling me just how fine it thought that last dish was.

Well, not this time. I managed to make it home before all heck broke loose, but just barely. Imagine coming home, late at night, husband out of town, porch light bulb is blown, baby in the car seat on the verge of waking up, doggies howling to be let out for a walk, utterly exhausted from a non-stop trip to Florida and back, when suddenly, your stomach yells out, "Now! Get 'er, fellas!!!" and decides to pounce at your weakest moment, wrap you up in a gunny sack and throw you over the back of its horse as it gallops off, pistols cracking... That pretty much describes what was the start of a very long 12 hour fight between my innards and whatever I ate that started the revolt. I think it was the smoked turkey, because even seeing that written here starts the chanting of the rebels in my gut. Ugh.

I think I've made it to the other side, but just barely. Add that adventure to the rain outside, and all I want to do is curl up in bed with my little munchkin and sleep until the sun comes back out to play.