Need to temper my enthusiasm?

So now that Delta and I had bought ourselves all this camping equipment, the next natural step was to figure out whether it actually worked (aka whether we knew how to work it).

"I know!" I suggested excitedly, "let's set up the tent right here in the living room!"
Delta eyed me dubiously. "You think it'll fit?"

Determined, I started pushing chairs and tables towards the edges to create a large space in the centre. I mean, I know we live in a little Manhattan shoebox and all, but if we can't fit a tent in our livingroom, then there's a serious problem.

So we started setting it up. There was a fair bit of flapping around with the fly before we realised it was the rainfly and we didn't need it. Followed by a fair share of kerfuffling with the poles, which seemed unnecessarily long, unweildy and unpredictable in the directions they chose to go. A couple of near-death incidents of eye-poking. But finally we got the poles where they were meant to be. And got the tent up.

And I have to say, it looked beautiful. Like a work of art. Now I know the sense of immense accomplishment the builders must have felt after they erected the Taj Mahal.

Not to be stopped here, I ran to our closet and brought out our camping pads and sleeping bags. "Let's set it all up like we'll be doing in the Catskills!" So we laid down the pads and and crawled into our sleeping bags. Took pictures of ourselves 'camping' in the living room. Generally indulged in a childish episode ballyhoo and tomfoolery.

I was almost hyperventilating with excitement.

Then suddenly, I stopped short.
"Delta!" I gasped.
He spun around.
"I'm feeling nauseous," I said weakly, bending over to breathe deeply.
"What do you mean?!" he asked, alarmed. Just a moment ago, we'd been fooling around with all our new equipment.

I was about to answer - but then cut myself off as I made a panicky dash to the bathroom to see if anything was going to come of my queasiness.

Leaned over the pot, and thought it was so unfair that I should find myself in this position, without the benefits of at least having had a night out drinking. Thought how miserable I felt, as my body heaved through itself in a turbulent moment of reverse-peristalsis.

I waited ten minutes in this undignified manner, bent over in the bathroom, to see if I did a Vomit-Comet. But nothing. After a while, satisfied that my body had regained control over itself, I gingerely came back to the living room to a rather perturbed Delta.

"What happened there?!" he asked.
But I didn't know.

Then suddenly an alarming thought occurred to me.
"Delta?"
"Hmm?"
"Isn't this what happens to cats and dogs? When they get really excited about something, they sometimes throw up?"
He looked at me, amused. "You think that's what happened? Your excitement made you nauseous?"

I shrugged. I didn't know, but I sure couldn't think of another explanation.