Plans that don't always work

My stomach has been acting up since I got here. . .perhaps even before I got here.
It was pissing me off, and I was getting tired of having a low grade ickiness underlying everthing I do. Granted, having to deal with stomach stuff is the burden every traveller must bear. In truth, it is a small price to pay.

But still, two days ago, I decided that I was going to beat my stomach into submission. The plan was this. . I would eat street food, I would eat meat, I would have juice. . all of the things that a careful, health conscious traveller is not supposed to do, but all of the things that make being in another country worthwhile.

Perhaps this was a mistake.

For a day and a half, things were going splendidly. But then, my stomach fought back with a vengance. I will spare you the details, but it's been a while since I have eaten. I had a little this morning, but I have retreated back to rice cakes, peanut butter, and water. So my stomach has bested me this round. But I am not defeated. I will return twice as strong (and twice as stupid). I will survive to, once again, eat all of the street food that I desire. Ice cream, juice, ceviche. . .it will all be mine, I will live to tell the day.

But for now, I shy away from the light and crawl back into the darkness of my room.