I haven't been outside today, and no, it's not because I'm a hermit/vampire who has to avoid the sun lest I burn like parchment.
No, I haven't stepped foot outside because I'm afraid I'll see a swarm of locusts. The end is nigh. In fact, I may get out a piece of cardboard and clang a bell up and down the block yelling, "THE END IS COMING."
Hey someone's got to be the Town Crier.
(You can trust me, I'm a nurse.)
Two weeks ago, I got some sort of stomach bug. At the time, I attributed it to anxiety, because things in Casa de la Vodka have been *ahem* challenging.
Then my daughter started to vomit.
Soon, my house resembled the Great Barf-o-Rama from that movie with the kid from Star Trek.