You know how in college, if you were the designated driver, your biggest fear was that your friends would get so sauced that they'd puke in your car? And that your karmic award for driving their sorry drunken butts around would be that you'd be stuck hosing out your car in the morning?

I nearly had to hose out my car for myself today.

As I'm driving down the freeway, I suddenly felt ill with little to warn me about it. I popped a piece of mint gum and the intense taste made it worse, so I, thanking my lucky stars for a filthy car, find a macho size plastic cup from Del Taco. (Thank the lord, I like my diet coke by the liter!) I rip off the straw and lid, pull the car to the side of the road, and proceed to be quite ill.

Fortunately, I manage not to hit anything inside my car except the cup and a little bit on my clothes. (Score one for a momma brain, because I knew damned well who'd have to clean out the car, if I got sick, and who'd have to smell the reek for a week.)

I then drove home, brushed my teeth, cancelled my appointments, and crawled into bed and slept for hours. I've been experiencing the other "end" of the spectrum in stomach flu this evening,which in conjunction with cramps has made me feel like a miserable piece of shi-shi.

Every time I lay down, I feel like something vile is occurring with my digestive system, so I'm sort of teetering while sitting up, which is a whole new experience in nausea.

Illnesses like this make me yearn for morning sickness. And then I think to myself, what woman in her right mind, would wish for morning sickness? Then I remember the macho cup and I recall...it's me, dammit. Me.