Why Monday Was Certifiably Insane

Monday, March 10th was one of the weirdest days of my life.

When I woke up, the inside of my mouth tasted kind of weird and dry and faintly pukey, but I didn't think much of it because I tend to sleep with my mouth open, so it's usually dry in the morning. I typically make some toast to eat on the drive into school, but my stomach felt a little odd, so I didn't. The whole ride to school, I was worried about running out of gas, because I never let the tank get as low as it was. So that was my main worry, until, shortly after executing (that's how they say turning in driver's ed language) the hairpin turn coming up the hill, I threw up! WHILE DRIVING! Who even does that? Sure, lots of people get carsick, but they're probably in the backseat. I bet less than two percent of the world's population has thrown up while driving. I should conduct a study.

Clearly, my day was not off to a good start. Thank God I didn't get into an accident, though. After parking, I cleaned myself up as well as I could with a towel I keep in the backseat as an instant window defogger but knew my jacket (my lovely, black dress jacket, on clearance from Over the Edge - the only thing I can afford from there) was a goner for the time being. I called Sheila to see if she had an extra sweatshirt, but alas, she gets to school right as I'm leaving. So I went to class in my dressy tanktop, jeans, and heels (all but the jeans I was planning on wearing to my choir concert that night).

I felt pretty crappy and cold, albeit functional, in math. Promptly afterwards, I went to the bathroom and puked three times. This was insane. I haven't thrown up since second grade, on Mrs. Craighead's desk and, a few minutes later, on Tori Overman. I've been told that if you throw up on someone and they're still friends with you, they are the truest kind of friend. So Tori and Joe (my car) are apparently my true blue friends.

Choir was difficult, seeing as how my throat stung, but I hadn't missed a day of class all quarter (so I wouldn't have to take my final) and I wasn't going to let this stop me. Before I could get home and crawl into bed, I had to get gas, of course. After waiting in line several minutes (which wasn't too bad, as I spent the time belting Chicago songs - the musical, not the band - with my iPod), I ended up paying $50.05. There went two days of my paycheck. At least it was symmetical. I have a thing for symmetry.

I got home, napped, watched Ellen, and gave my mom her birthday present. It was also Osama bin Laden's birthday, but I wasn't exactly about to bake a "Happy Birthday Osama" cake, if you catch my drift.

That night I had my concert, which went decently, considering the contents of my stomach stayed there. Rendezvous was great, as always, but I liked both choir's songs from last quarter better. For anyone reading this, next quarter's will be show tunes, which I have no doubt will blow your mind, meaning you should come.

So, yay, that was my day. Sorry if I grossed you out. I just found it funny.

Andrea