The Bummer That Is Food Poisoning

7 Mar

The nausea. The throbbing pain. But most unfortunately, the newfound hatred of my former favorite foods—hamburgers and poached eggs, I hate you.

It’s food treachery. How could my closest friends betray my stomach, and leave me paralyzed? The thought of a burger or egg sends pulsating shivers down my spine, leaving my stomach in knots, and my gag reflex, well, gagging.

Before last week, hamburgers and anything egg-related were my favorite foods. A trip to Shake Shack and Elephant & Castle for my burger and egg fixes, respectively, were as much mainstays as brushing my teeth in the morning and watching The Bachelor at night to see if Jake would finally dump Vienna. But apparently, burgers, eggs, and Jake for that matter, didn’t get the memo.

The culprits? A burger dinner at Five Napkin Burger and a poached egg brunch at Delta Grill. Due to my two experiences, I am off my animal go-to’s for awhile. But it lent me to think how truly amazing food poisoning is. There isn’t any proof that either of those meals led to me getting sick, yet psychologically I cannot disassociate them from my queasy disposition.

In all likelihood, I had already been sick, but didn’t feel the delayed symptoms until after I had consumed my ill-fated meals. However, regardless of logic and love, my stomach is telling my brain what to think, and when my stomach’s in control, there’s no stopping it.

I’m confident that I will get back on the horse that so vehemently kicked me off. I hope someday to see you again—hamburger and poached eggs—when I can once again feed freely without reservation. You are my nemeses, yet I cannot let go. Don’t worry; this is not the end of our relationship, but rather a minor blip in an illustrious, lifelong bond.


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