Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
I sit down and start my computer, plugging in my phone beside the keyboard as the sound of pinging alerts me to emails coming in.
Only when my stomach grumbles do I stop typing an email and look at the top of the screen, seeing it’s just after six. I finish the email, before making my to-do list for the next day and then closing it down. It was something I made clear when I started, if it wasn’t done in the workday, it would get done the next day. The world is not going to come to an end if I don’t respond to an email. That is not to say I don’t check it when I’m not at my desk, but I’ve come to terms with a balance of it. I close the shades in the room before I call my mother as I drag my feet to my bedroom.
I listen to the sound of it ringing at the same time I collapse on my bed. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t in jail,” I tease her when she finally answers after five rings.
She laughs and I can hear the television in the background, along with my father talking with my sister and the sound of plates. “How are you doing?”
“Well, I didn’t die from drinking rotten milk.” I turn on my side and close my eyes before curling my feet up to my chest. “So I’m still alive.”
“I’m happy about that,” she deadpans and I can see her smile in my head. “Did you eat?”
“I was so nauseated all day because of that sour milk, I couldn’t even think about food,” I admit to her. “Now I’m just so tired that all I want to do is sleep, but I know I have to eat something.” She laughs. “I wish you could cook for me. What are you making for dinner?”
“I bought a rotisserie chicken to make quesadillas.”
“Mom, I just got over being sick from milk and you're mentioning oozing cheese,” I groan and put my hand to my stomach. “I think I’m going to make a cup of soup and just crawl into bed.”
“Sweetheart, it’s been almost a week that you’ve been feeling run-down, and you slept for like eleven hours on Saturday night.”
“Wow, Mom, way to tell me I’m living my best life without telling me I’m living my best life. Just out here living the dream .”
“You literally had plans to go to the hockey game and cancelled so you could sleep,” she reminds me. “Maybe you are coming down with the flu or something.”
“Great, I’m sick now.” I put my hand on my forehead. “I feel a bit warm.” I move my palm off of my forehead to the back of my hand to see if it feels hotter.
“You are not warm.” She laughs. “Go and take your temperature. If it’s over one hundred point four, call me back.”
“What if it isn’t but I feel sick?” I groan.
“Then google your symptoms and then call me back,” she suggests.
“It’s going to tell me I’m dying.” I laugh as I hear my sister yelling in the background. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I guess, if I don’t die tonight.”
“I will keep my fingers crossed you survive the night.” She laughs at me and disconnects but not before she says, “Love you, baby girl.”
Lying on my side, I open up my browser. “Okay, let’s see what it says,” I talk to myself as I type in nauseated and extremely tired, pressing send. “And the cause is…” I say, reading what comes up right away. “Fatigue and nausea are symptoms that commonly occur together,” I start to read, “some causes are the result of lifestyle habits, or an underlying mental or physical health issue that requires treatment.” I snort when I see poor diet, and the phone falls out of my hand and hits my nipple and I hiss out in pain.
“Fuck,” I swear, rubbing my achy boob when I move back up to the search bar and put in “and sore boobs.” Pressing send, I turn on my back and hold up the phone and the blood stops in my veins. “Common symptoms of early pregnancy.” I shoot up, sitting on the bed and laugh.
“That’s not right.” My heart starts to pick up so much speed it feels like I’m running on the treadmill at a seven speed. “That is definitely not right,” I state, opening my period app. The circle goes around as it opens and I’m expecting it to tell me my period is expected in two days or whatever, but instead there is a gray circle and it says ten days late. “Oh my God.” I get off the bed and I don’t know if I got off too fast, but my head starts to spin and I feel like I’m going to vomit all over the place. I dry heave for a couple of seconds before I think about what to do. “I need a pregnancy test.”