Monday, June 11, 2007

My Weekend

Saturday night was unusual.

After eating far too much, I came home and suffered food poisoning, courtesy of a restaurant that had not advertised 'nausea-inducing efficacy' as amongst its offered ingredients.

Given our reigning taboos about defecation, I will spare you the graphic details of my experiences in that regard.

As for my vomiting, consitent with past experiences, I found it both considerably more traumatic and much more pleasurable an act in its after-effects.

Throwing up is a cataclysmic event. It was mystical in its ability to transport me to the fundamental ground of being. And so incredibly restorative! Almost immediately I felt it had done the trick, and that the only way was up. Indeed it was, for I only had to perform this labour once.

The aches in my legs, however, persisted. Ignorant as I am, I thought I'd had these because I'd spent the past 15 hours horizontally, though today I was told that this too had been virally caused.

As I was writhing around, cancelling lessons (for which I am to be rewarded with no pay) I kept telling myself I must drink, or else there'd be nothing left of me to expel. Not having anything in the fridge, and unenthused by tap water, I dragged myself, haggard and wobbling, to the nearest shopping centre (thankfully very near) and bought orange juice, citron soda and a marvellous Slovak variant of Cola called Kofola.

I also got it into my head (rightly or wrongly????) that I should eat Ice Cream. And so I did, and apart for some bread, bacon and eggs this morning, have eaten nothing else since. I have also had precisely one beer in the past 48 hours, and that was merely 2 hours ago. It must have been almost two years, since I was India, that I have gone that long without the dreaded demon.

So an unsual time for me, and vivid, despite its evident drawbacks. On balance I think I wouldn't ask for the experience again, though I suppose it's meaningful once in a while to check in on the elemental earthiness, stripped of all refinement, of the fires of mother earth.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

most English people would describe such an ordeal as a 'fun' weekend, so long as it was all caused by drinking too much booze.

"Oh, yeah, I got wrecked on Saturday, throwing up all day, it were great, it were..." etc.