MOAR! :P

Chapter 3
Monday, August 18.
3:00 P.M.
On the balls of my feet, I pushed a buggy cart around the supermarket, purposefully scanning the aisles for all the items that my mother and I needed. I was on a mission. The only goals were to find what I needed as quickly as possible, and get out. I hate grocery shopping.
However, while searching for the bananas, I spotted Miss Liahla. Right there, near the veggies. Well, actually I bumped into her when I was mildly distracted by the candy bars so perfectly displayed where all could see. I really need to cut back on the sugar.
�UMPH!� I proclaimed. �I�m sorry�oh, Miss Liahla. Hi.� What is she doing here? I wondered. Oh, right, haha. Dance teachers have to buy food, too. Right. Right�.
�Hi, Kathryn. How are you feeling?�
How am I�feeling? Don�t people usually just ask �how are you?�
�Um�I�m okay�I had this weird vomiting fit early this morning, though. But, I checked my temperature and it was perfectly normal. It was so weird.�
�Is that so?� But she didn�t act like she was surprised. Just a dry tone. The kind people give women when they tell you they�re pregnant, and it turns out their toddler spread the word three weeks earlier. It almost had a hint of satisfaction, even. Almost. �Well,� she sighed, �I hope you can figure out the problem,� she replied with a quick, insignificant grin. �Excuse me if it is rude, but I�m late for an�appointment, so I must be going.�
�Alright, well I�ll see you on Wednesday,� I managed to reply in a normal tone. What is it with this lady and the way she puts things? It�s like everything is a secret, or has some sort of double-meaning. Then again, my dad never had a way with words. After a shrug, I grabbed the last few items off the list, paid for them, and rode my bike home.

4:55 P.M.
As I was peeling a banana, the scent of its sweet fruit rose into my nostrils, and the smell seemed a bit more sickening than I remembered it being. Inspecting it all around and breaking the tip off to investigate the center, I checked for any blackening areas. Realizing that it was very possibly the most perfect-looking banana I�d ever seen in my life, I stuffed the tip I�d broken off into my mouth and swallowed. The taste was nothing unusual. I proceeded until I�d eaten about a third of the banana, when I found myself leaning over the kitchen sink, the soft yellow mixed with the other digested blend of food and whatnot spewing out of my mouth. What in the world? I thought. My temperature was fine before I left for the store this morning! There was no scientific reason for this that I could think of. And yet, there I was, projecting a yummilicious soup of gunk into the sink. Once I�m finished, I�m checking my temperature. If it�s normal, I�m asking the doc what�s up. This is just plain weird.

5:05 P.M.
Grabbing a dishcloth off the counter, I wiped the puke remains off my face and headed for the refrigerator to get a water bottle. After gulping down all the water I could without restarting the vomit fest, I started the search for the thermometer. Surprisingly, I actually found it in about two minutes. Practicing some dance steps, I waited for the thermometer to make that annoying beeping sound. 98.6. �It�s perfect!� I shouted to no one, frustrated. �What is WRONG with me?!� I growled. Stomping off to the bathroom so I could finish cleaning myself off in the shower, I grabbed the sides of my head in irritation. As if to add to the vexation, I realized that, not only my forehead, but my entire body, was covered in sweat. So much, in fact, I was practically soaking in the salty wet substance. That migraine was resurfacing. How much longer is this going to last? I pondered for no short period of time.