Valentine’s Day: Round 2

I had the best worst Valentine’s Day in the history of mankind.

I posted several days before Valentine’s Day about my struggle with “food poisoning.” HAH! Food poisoning. Or so I thought. Folks, what I had Monday night was just a mere stomach ache. I found out what food poisoning was on Valentine’s Day night as I spent 12 hours vomiting, unable to leave my bed, fighting wrenching stomach pain, and wrapped in six blankets with a space heather tucked in the bed with me. I was given three bags of fluid, the max dose of nausea medication, and a vast array of other medicines that I still keep in my purse “just incase.” I couldn’t hold down any liquids, didn’t eat for 4 days, and stayed in bed for two. That was food poisoning. Thanks for clearing that up, Dai Ichi Japanese Restaurant. Well played.

Let’s start off with the happiest part of my Valentine’s Day. As I mentioned, Tom was out of town. I usually don’t mind him being out of town because it gives me the opportunity to eat all of the things he doesn’t like for dinner, catch up on work, and watch Real Housewives without him pitching a fit about how he’s missing Swamp People. But this time, I was feeling pretty lonely and stir-crazy, so I thought what better way to solve that than by doing something nice for someone else?

Being on a pretty strict budget these days, I knew I didn’t have much to spend, but I had a million people I wanted to give gifts to. I bought a 12-pack of Mason jars; which, if you’ve never bought Mason jars, they’re surprisingly cheap – less than $1.00 a jar. I also bought one bouquet of flowers, some ribbon, and three sheets of stickers and crossed my fingers that it’d be enough for 12 people. Luckily, I had a toooon of wild dandelions growing in my yard that I used to fill in after I evenly divided up the bouquet. I also had gift tags at home from the Target dollar section that I tied around the neck of the jars.

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Two of the little girls I made flowers for have younger brothers who I knew wouldn’t want flowers, so they got manly birdseed.

Aphid and I spent the day hand delivering all of the bouquets which was really nice because I got to visit with most of the people on my list. We went to Perry, to Fort Valley, to Byron, to Butler, and back to Warner Robins. WELL, of course anything bad and terrible in the world would come out of Warner Robins. I was supposed to meet my family for dinner at Longhorns, but because of the 2 hours wait, we decided to hit up the only place in town other than McDonald’s that wouldn’t have a wait: Dai Ichi. I’ve never had it before, but it seemed legit since my parents and sister had eaten there before and enjoyed it.

I’m going to stop there for everyone’s comfort. I will say that I’ve never wanted to die, but if I had the choice at 3 a.m. that Friday morning, I would’ve chosen death. I’ll also say that there will never. EVER. be a day where I’ll eat Japanese food. EVER. I have only been on Russell Parkway once since the incident and I took a detour so I wouldn’t have to pass by Dai Ichi. Dramatic? Nope.

Now, here’s where things get weird. You know those Buddha heads that are used in decorating? Well, I found a FABULOUS silver one at Goodwill the week before that I put in my office. Well, on Monday I got sick during dinner and had to run out of the restaurant. On Wednesday my heater broke. On Thursday, I died of food poisoning. And on Friday, my well went out and I didn’t have running water. No big deal, who needs water when you have food poisoning? Anyway, my mind kept flashing back to the Buddha statue for some reason. I barely remember this, but apparently the first thing I did when Tom got home was ask him to go throw the Buddha head in the garbage.

It was cursed, because life sure has been pretty grand since.

All in all, I can’t complain about my Valentine’s Day. It was definitely one of the most memorable. I got to see and visit with 12 people that I love. And I was shown the greatest example of love as my mom rushed over to my house that night and stayed up with me ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Holding my hand, holding my hair, helping me out of bed, washing my face, bringing me pointless glasses of ginger ale, cleaning up, and even catching the bug herself without too many words of complaint. I guess you’re never too old for your mom to swoop in and save the day.

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