Dear readers, in a gesture of full disclosure, let me share with you that I fell off the Gluten Free Wagon last night.  I could kick myself.  I was so close to going a whole month without gluten!!!  Ah well.  Que Sera Sera.  It happened like this.

If you've been following me on the Book of Face, you already are aware how severe this illness has struck me.  If you're not on FB, following my every random post, let me assure you, it's been a doozy.  I can't remember the last time I was this sick.  There was that time when I was super little and on vacation and got a throat infection that made me puke every twenty minutes.  That was...less than fun.  Thankfully I didn't throw up at all with this virus.  I did have a fever for a hot second, but it quickly petered out.  After the first two days of extreme body pain, it went into my nose and throat, then into my chest and gave me this ridiculously awful cough for another two days that gave me a serious ab workout.  I still have a bad cough, but it doesn't wrack my entire body.  It's got the hollow, phlegmy feel to it.  Joy.

I was going to start this post off by talking about how my brother used to call me "Victorian Frail" when I was a youngster because I was so often sick, and that I've finally kicked that namesake because I haven't felt this great in as long as I can remember - probably because of the new diet.  And then...I got sick...Which really, really sucks. 

I can't believe I'm 22.  The magical year of youth is over.  Now what?  Silly it may seem, but I feel old.  How did that happen?  No more birthdays to look forward to, no huge milestones to hit.  Well, I may throw myself a golden birthday when I'm 30 or 33 since I was jipped 'cause mine was when I turned 3.  But still.