My watch beeped outside of a Malaysian restaurant.
I feel unwell, and I'm doped on CVS cough medicine. We'll go inside and order food to be shared. Intestine, literally, will be eaten. Good but chewy. We're in Chinatown, and we're blocks from where some of Tara's family are staying at a hotel.
Back to the hotel for drinks, and back home again. None of this is helping me feel better, but I suppose it's better to at least get outside for a bit. I promised to go to work tomorrow after calling out today. The promise won't be kept, because nighttime will find me feeling much worse still.
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