So I’ve been feeling really run-down for the last couple of weeks, but – hey – you know – who doesn’t. Anyway I thought if Matt and I stopped working so hard for a couple of days and just let our minds and bodies catch up with the world, then I’d feel a bit better and I decided to end one of those days by going out for a couple of drinks. And – I’ll admit it – I had a couple of cigarettes. And then I woke up this morning unable to stand properly and with a throat that the flu fairy had attacked with a rusty old cheese-grater. Anyway, I went to work anyway because clearly having days off is evil and wrong and only lightweights do it. I bought loads of pills and took loads of pills and just about managed to get through the day and get home before promptly barfing all over the place and collapsing exhausted onto the sofa. I am, it seems, officially ill.
As this has clearly been building for a while now, I think I’m going to assume that it’s the reason that I’ve felt so enervated and unable to accomplish anything for the last couple of weeks. So – taking advantage of the fact that I’ve now been lying on my sofa for three hours solidly without really moving at all and have therefore built up some typing energy – I’m going to (1) briefly apologise for the lack of posts recently (2) say thank you to the lovely person who bought me Nowhere off my wishlist (unless I bought it for myself (which it occurs to me it quite possible, although I don’t remember doing it) and (3) look rather surprised at myself for having just accidentally bought a Powerbook on the day that they announced the shipping date for Panther.
Oops! Here comes lunch again. Best be off.