Nobody likes being sick. I’d had my run in’s with germs over my lifetime, but the pizza I ate from the gas station that night wasn’t a smart decision. A few years back I was watch the super bowl at my cousin’s house. We were all gathered around the big screen soaking in the game in all its glory. “Tom Brady throws a Hail Mary down the field to Randy Moss the wide receiver,” the announcer screamed, “And he drops the ball on 4 down and the game is over.” The New York Giants had won the super bowl that Year. And defeated the New England Patriots and ruined their goal of a perfect season. I couldn’t believe it. We were all stunned and shocked. Everyone is the room let out a sigh of disbelief.
After the game was over we all basically went our separate ways for the night. I decided that the chips and pop and other snacks I had that night just wasn’t enough. So I decided to run to the local mom and pop joint up the road and get a large pizza on my way home. I picked it up and went back to my house and I could hardly wait to devour it. As my stomach growled and turn like it hadn’t had any food in ten years, I seemly gulped the hot delicious pizza down in one bite after another. The steam poured from the Pizza like a soma, then when down easy into my stomach. I was full after that. I went to bed that night with a feeling of satisfaction.
I woke up the next morning to a screeching alarm clock, like every other morning before. I tried to stand up but suddenly it hit me. Bam! My head was pounding. I instantly fell back down on my pillow, like a two ton bolder falling off the side of a mounting to the ground. I had food posing from the pizza last night. I really didn’t know what going on. I couldn’t even move a muscle in my body without pain. The thought of lifting my head off the pillow was like a bodybuilder lifting a heavy weight in the air. Dehydration set in. I couldn’t get up to get a class of water. I basically remained like that all day. Now I know better than...
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