on a jet plane...I'm not exactly sure when I'll be back again. Good grief. I never really liked that song. Sick. Sick. Sick. :( This blows big chunks! Literally. So...I made it through, what, not quite two weeks of fat camp? I'm feeling like such a total failure right now. I'm furious too. I'm mad at my inferior immune system. I'm mad at the self-important, inconsiderate people that feel entitled to walk around here sick, coughing all over the rest of us without a thought or care in their vapid little heads for the health of others. I'm mad at the people running this place for not quarantining the aforementioned people to help prevent the rest of us from getting sick. I'm just plain mad right now.
So, what am I going to do about it? I don't really know. I'm not going to waste time or money being sick here, that's for sure. I can be sick at home. So, I bumped up my flight and I'll be home just in time for Houston rush hour tomorrow. I hope my husband is looking forward to some nice booger snotty kisses from me. I look really pretty too...still peeling from the stevia hives. It looks like I've had a really bad sunburn...or an acid peel. Lovely. If I were married to a lesser man, I'd be afraid he'd leave me on the curb!
I should have a fat camp credit for the remaining two weeks and change of my stay. I'm hoping that after I get over this crud, I can maintain some momentum at home...I'm thinking that maybe coming back here a little further into the summer might be a better idea. Right now, everyone's cooped up inside, sharing the same dry, heated air...a recipe for quick and ugly germ transmission. I might even steal my Jeep back from my son and drive out so I have my own transportation.
Right now...I'm just mad...and disappointed...and sick...and looking at a closet full of stuff that needs to be packed.