Yesterday at work I went down to the cafeteria and was pleasantly surprised that there was something I wanted to eat and therefore didn't have to rely on the good old favorite of chicken quesadilla. Now don't get me wrong, I like chicken quesadilla, but 3 times a week is a bit much just because there isn't anything else I like the look of. So, yesterday I got chicken breast, mashed potato with gravy and corn on the cob.
I took it into the break room, sat down and then Kathy said to me "Don't eat the chicken! Look at mine, it's pink! I'm taking it back!" Well hers was definitely pink so I dug around in mine but it didn't look too bad. Not pink at any rate. Well, I risked it.
At 2.05am exactly, I woke up to a train rumbling through my belly and Mount Vesuvius erupting all at the same time. I know. This is too much information. NOT what anyone wants to read. After a couple of hours, I went back to bed knowing I had about another hour to sleep before I had to get up for work. The alarm clock went off. I felt okay, but extremely tired, but figured the shower would probably wake me up. So I'm in the shower and gravity began working again. Do you know how cold it is at 5.30am sitting on the toilet butt naked and wet? (Please do NOT try to imagine the scene!!)
I am so grateful that Brent was up and about because I was so dehydrated and nearly fainted. My lips were dry and grey and I had to call in to work. All day I've been feeling very under the weather and tired but have noticed a gradual improvement this evening.
So when someone says that the chicken looks pink and you're not sure...just err on the side of caution will you?
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