Having the benefit of hindsight, it's quite probable that in addition to leaving my car keys in Atlantic City, I brought something back to Long Island - a stomach bug. Starting Sunday night and continuing throughout most of last week, there was a sizable drop in my appetite. Off the top of my head, I'd say I was consuming no more than 1,000 calories per day. That wasn't the only symptom; let's just say that while one end of the digestive tract constricted somewhat, the other did the opposite. The nadir came on Friday night, shortly after settling down to dinner with my parents. My dad said "Matt, if you don't feel like eating, that's alright" - to which I replied, "I think it might be worse than that." I retired to the bathroom and regurgitated a portion of half digested chicken cutlet and spaghetti. After that, I slowly recovered throughout the weekend, and by now I'm back to normal, including alcohol. (The beer sitting to my left is the first festive beverage I've consumed since leaving Boardwalk Hall.) Despite all that, nothing else was wrong. Therefore, I was more than well enough to get out of bed, and so I was more than well enough to haul myself to and from Hempstead for class.
So what was the cause of this malady? Officially, I have no idea; it just came and went. But if forced to hazard a guess, that guess would be food poisoning. The only thing that I might be able to link it with is the hamburger that I didn't finish in the arena on the night of the championship game. Because of all the consternation revolving around my keys, I didn't eat lunch that day; the burger was the only substantive food I had. It looked as though it had been pre-cooked, left in a warming tray, and then thrown on the grill again when I ordered it. The first signs of trouble occurred about twenty-four hours later. A plausible theory, but also an entirely circumstantial one.
Anyway. I'm looking forward to getting up to Groton this Friday for the decommissioning of USS Memphis. Many old friends will be present, and as I said a few weeks ago, I'm ready to see the old boat off into the submarine nursing home. Speaking tangentially about my sub and nuclear power, I got another perfect score in thermodynamics (2nd time out of three exams). That course has, more than any other I've taken at Hofstra, incorporated and reminded me of things I learned in the Navy. The other courses are proceeding well also, but the week after next is shaping up to be a potential monster - three exams, right before spring break. Yes, before spring break. Ours doesn't commence for another sixteen days, thanks to the vagaries of the calculation of Easter and Hofstra's adherence to it. There's plenty I have to say about the academic calendar at my current school, but I'm going to reserve that to a later entry.