Okay, so this past weekend (aka Sunday) was my work's "Christmas Party Round One". Which basically meant the dinner portion, because they are doing gift exchange after a training thing which is in the middle of the day when I should be sleeping next weekend. This year people in my hotel hated me and chose one of the two places I absolutely.fucking.hate eating at. I haven't ate there since I was 17 and ended up in the hospital with violent food poisioning. It wasn't a pretty sight then, and guess what?
Still not a pretty sight.
Yes, that's correct, kids. I ordered the one fucking thing I would eat off the menu (Chicken and mashed potatoes) and ten minutes after I started my shift, I became best friends with the toilet. My impressed level soared to an all time high, especially since I had been forced to go to the restaurant by my loving coworkers.
Who are all now eating their words.
So while I am still weak and haven't had anything more than apple juice in the past twenty four hours,
I win.
My manager saw how sick I was this morning, andddddddddddd we have officially banned the place that has made me ill. I feel like it's a huge victory.
All I want to do now is sleep, though.
Which is all I did today. 15 hours of sleep and my body could still go another 5-8 hours.
Gross.
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