Which was strange, because there wasn't much of anything in my stomach to get rid of; black tea with milk and that was it. In fact, the last thing I had to eat was a bowl of soup at around noon yesterday. Then, of course, I realized that I wasn't so much nauseous as I was hungry.

I guess my appetite is back.

I've been too sick to feel like eating anything for the last few days, and I suppose this is a pretty clear indication that I'm on the mend. Which is a bummer, since I didn't even lose any weight. I'm always sort of envious of those bitches who get the flu and lose ten pounds in a week. Having the flu sucks, of course, but at least you've got something to show for it. A silver lining. But that kind of shit isn't for the likes of me: I stop eating and my body fiercly protects every last ounce of body fat because, hey, I might just need it later on!

Stupid body.

So, I went to the kitchen and scrounged around in the fridge until I found a strawberry cheesecake yogurt, stirred in a couple spoons of wheat germ for that graham cracker crust effect, and sucked it right down. (I could have gone for some eggs and bacon and hash browns and possibly grits, but I was in way too much of a hurry for that.) Then I tried to wait twenty minutes for it to hit my stomach and notify my brain that it now had food and the red alert could safely be called off, but my stomach was having none of that, so I made some 8 cereal toast, which I ate with butter and somes cherry jam.

I got some new cherry jam at Jumbo yesterday. It's the "no added sugar" kind, and "made with real fruit!" which is comforting. The label stretches all the way around the jar, and features pictures of wholesome looking people doing wholesomely healthy and athletic things. The first thing I did was peel off the label so I wouldn't have to look at them every time I opened the fridge door. The label is plastic and came right off, so that's cool. The jam turned out to be pretty much all cherries with not quite enough jelly to hold them together. I took one bite and holy shit is that stuff sweet! No sugar added my ass-- it tastes like they used marachino cherries to make the stuff. They should have called it Shirley Temple Jam or something.

By the time I finished my slice of toast, though, I was pretty much liking it.

And that's pretty much it. Wednesday and Thursday were spent slumped in front of my computer, blowing my nose and not writing, punctuated by the occasional whimper. Yesterday was more of the same, except the drugs were finally starting to work, the snot production slowed down a fraction, and the sneezes became a bit less projectile. I wouldn't have left the house, even so, except that I was almost out of Kleenex. More importantly, we were completely out of canned cat food, and Calliope was letting me know on an increasingly regular basis that the situation was absolutely unacceptable. So I got dressed and went to Jumbo, and I survived.

We even went to the pub yesterday evening, since I was getting a bit stir crazy, and because I believe you have to force your body to ignore pain and illness or you'll never get anything done. Especially not here in Portugal, where I seem to have developed allergies to everything. Can't let a mere runny nose and the occasional violent sneeze or two keep ME home, or I'd never get out. And it was OK, except the both of us were tired out and ready for bed by 10:30 or so. I'm sure this caused our friends considerable amusement: Poor old fogeys, out past their bedtime.

Whatever. And we did have an excuse for getting in early: why stay out late when the LNBOE is closed this weekend? Mr. Evil is having some work done before the main tourist season arrives, apparently, although the LNBOE doesn't really rely on tourists so much. Perhaps he's putting in a disco ball in response to the opening of the Late Night Bar of Mildly Wicked. I think he's been kind of worried about that, but you know, it's just not a late night bar of evil without Mr. Evil himself, so he shouldn't be. Miss Kitty went to the new place again last weekend, only to return to the LNBOE and report that the place was stuffed to the gills with kids.

Good. Let them stay there, that's what I say.

As do all my teacher friends, who would really rather not have their students witness their less than exemplary behavoir in the LNBOE at four in the morning. Which makes sense.

Tonight we're going in to Lisbon. Ian is having a party, which should be fun, especially since we still haven't seen his apartment yet. Also, he's invited a bunch of people we've never met, and I'm all about meeting new people and making new friends. Which I actually might do, since my snot production has slowed to a moderate trickle, and the odds of my sneezing all over some poor soul seem to be greatly reduced.

So, it's off to the shower with me. I might even be able to bend down long enough to shave my legs!