Last night, as I was chewing on some warm-but-not-hot pizza, I kept thinking, this could end up making me sick. It's got sausage and pepperoni in it. Who knows how long it's been sitting out?
I've been poisoned once by pizza (or perhaps by the ill, non-handwashing people who prepared it), once by tepid hot dogs (at a Wrigley Field rainout) and, most recently in January by infected tapas handlers.
But I was so hungry, I kept eating, not wanting to wait to heat it up. Then after I finished I sat for 30-minutes very seriously contemplating inducing vomiting. And to me, vomiting is just about the worst, most miserable thing that can happen -- because it's terribly, terribly violent when I do it. But I was thinking, vomit some now to save hours of vomiting later.
But I didn't. And so for the past 24 hours I've been on tenterhooks, carefully weighing every odd symptom that crops up. So if it happens, I imagine it will be in the next 3-4 hours, which would be just awful, since I've got a big two-day shoot to do.
So we'll see. Off to bed. Hopefully I'll make it safely out the other side.