Working through it

So, it has been an unfortunate trend in my time in Paris that I keep getting sick. Stomach sick. It's not pretty whether it's cramping, pain, heartburn, food poisoning, or god knows what. I get at least one of those things a week.

Yay.

Today was one of those days, but worse. I'm not sure what caused it, but in the space of 2 hours I went from being a little uncomfortable to downright sick as a dog.

And that sick as a dog part happened in the kitchen.

I had made the decision to go in today despite not feeling my best because I knew I could fight through it. If I let this stomach thing win over my life, then I'm done for.

But after about 30mins of being in the kitchen, I had to run out as my body decided to vomit. And I am not a vomit-er by nature. It's always the last resort.

Anyways, as I unfortunately have been making the rounds of the LCB toilets most enjoyable for vomiting in, I must say the second floor ladies is quite nice. In case you ever find yourself in the same situation in the same location.

Anyways, after cleaning up, I returned to the kitchen and finished my dish. The chef, one of my favorites and who likes me, told me multiple times to go home.

I told him I was fine. He told me, "Quel courage." (What courage).

While I'd say we're on pretty good terms, he doesn't know how much of a stubborn ass I can be. Or badass for that matter.

But I survived. I plated a great dish, no serious complaints from the chef. So, Stomach, I won. You did not earn me a zero for today and I beat you. Take that.

But can we be friends again tomorrow? I'd like that.