All day long I�ve felt nauseated and clammy. I don�t know what�s up. I ate some crackers and hummus for lunch, trying to ease the belly; but it seemed that as soon as the food went past my stomach in the digestive tract, the sickening feeling would come back.

I got to work late since my bags were 98% packed and was met with 80 issues to deal with. You think I�m joking? After taking a look at the stack, I called the Austin office and confirmed a desk reservation for both Monday and Tuesday. I was planning on being in Houston on Tuesday afternoon, but we�ll see how it goes.

I managed to leave work at 2:30, buying enough time to get some cash and a Diet Coke from my local Walgreens before zipping out to O�Hare. I got there with two hours to spare, but there seemed to be a problem when I did the self-checkin.

Crapola.

I waited in the decent line for a while, undoubtedly being hit with nausea again. The friendly Kate helped me out by calling reservations and straightening out whatever the problem was.

Thankfully I stood there for an hour because each flight I was slated to be on was cancelled during that time. Had I wrestled through security, had some man pull out my unmentionables while explaining that he�s seen it all with his wife and daughters and catching a glimpse of understanding towards my embarrassment when I mention that he�s not seen MINE, I�d have been a bit upset. Instead of staying at the Cleveland Hilton, we got me all switched around and transferring through only the warm states first thing tomorrow morning.

Although Kate was exceptionally friendly and everything got settled with a confirmed seat on the aisle of each flight from here on out, that hour was hell.

I�m sweating from the nausea. I�m dizzy. I�ve got that nasty feeling in my mouth. All of this, and nothing�s happening.

When all of the re-ticketing fiasco was settled, I went to the bathroom, pushed the button for a new seaty cover, and sat with my hands in my face.

If I had any reason to believe the reason was so, I�d go pee on a stick for confirmation that there wasn�t a little Jo along the way.

*That�s* how sick I feel to my stomach right now.

I came home, ate some tomato soup since it was the only food I had in my apartment after doing a good job of cleaning the place out of anything perishable this past week. I ate what was left from a loaf of wheat berry bread just a minute ago, yet I still feel pukey.

I feel bad for whoever sits next to me in my next flight. I�ve never ralphed on a plane before, so this may be a ChicagoJo first.

I�ll keep that little bag nearby, and I�ll keep you updated. �