Saturday afternoon, Mum and I ate at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. We split a burger and our fries. She did not get sick. Then, Saturday night, Jennifer, Brandon, Andy, The Brother and I all went to a restaurant. I ate a tenderloin, grilled asparagus, and had a Coke. Brandon and Jennifer both had that same tenderloin. Jennifer had the asparagus, too. None of them got sick, either, but a mere two hours later, I was home, throwing up every part of my meal and possibly my very SOUL.
Knowing me, it was a preservative and/or Liquid Smoke. Do people put Liquid Smoke over grilled veggies?* Or somehow, mango made its way into a pork sandwich. But which? Now I am afraid to eat anything. ANYTHING. Except I am eating Amy's Cheddar Bunnies, because I know those don't make me sick and also they are crackers. Crackers are good for you. They aren't poison. Usually. I think.
I need Mulder and Scully to come here and find out what the culprit was. I mean, I might have been POISONED. The Brother may have been trying to kill me. He could have put arsenic in my asparagus. Or this.
The scary thing is, I will probably never know what caused this. But I haven't been this ill since my gallbladder was at its worst, and I don't think there's any organ left inside me that can be removed without killing me. People need their stomachs. Or their intestines. Or livers. Or at least one kidney.
In other news, I enjoyed a relaxing Sunday watching episode after episode of The X-Files. I would rather have felt well and done this:
Maybe some other Sunday. Like, next week. Or the week after. Or whenever Rachael feels like Thai food or I have time to make Pad Thai again. One of the two.
I really love Thai food.
*The answer to this is YES. Why? WHY?