Welcoming Death

Today, Sbarro's made me want to die. Food poisoning does that to you: welcome death with open arms, I mean. Did I get the shitz? Boy, did I. Did I spew cookies? You betcha. More than once, I contemplated asking Sarah to knock me unconscious with a swift punch in the head. But then, I thought, what if she doesn't hit me hard enough? Instead, I let her take care of me in her own way: making tea, changing my barf bag, etc. I guess it was better this way.