What the hell did I ever do to you?

Mr. Peanut tried to kill me Saturday night. I've been eating a very bland diet all month, per doctor's orders as we try to get my Covid-related diarrhea under control. Last Monday, almost a week ago, my doctor recommended I begin adding other foods to make sure I get the nutrients I need and to ensure that my gut gets used to working again. 

I added chocolate back without incident. The same cannot be said for peanut butter.

I will spare you the gory, messy details, except to assure you that they were indeed gory and messy. And exhausting, since they took place between 1:00 and 3:00 AM.

I threw the peanut butter away. I fear I will forever feel about it as I do Harvey Wallbangers, the drink I'd consumed that resulted in my first hangover. Some experiences are just too searing to risk replicating.

Oh, well. I must remember that more than 16,400 of my neighbors here in Cook County have died of this disease. I have gut trouble. I should get over myself and consider myself lucky.

It's just worse to be sick at Christmastime.