One of the rare occasions where I am off sick. Thank you, oh mighty Gosbat (god of sore bones and throats) for smiting me so quickly after my very long and loud rant at The Sinking Ship about people who come to work when ill/contagious. As I croaked to my boss on the telephone this morning – it would be rather hypocritical of me to come in and spread the love – she wholeheartedly agreed.
So I slept very soundly for most of the morning – the expected hallucinations were in absentia, although I did have some wild and crazy dreams (involving the 78 year old man at work snarking at me for reading slashdot while at The Sinking Ship & another one about not shaving my legs) – I think these were just the normal wild and crazy dreams I have whenever I sleep during the day. Perhaps my geeky pal is more inclined to hallucinate? Perhaps I simply have a different version of The Cold?
I woke feeling much improved, had a shower and thought to myself, “I’ll just pop downstairs to the letterbox and later up to the Post Office and on to Woolies for some dinner fixings, after which I will tidy the hardly haus and do some washing”. Sadly Gosbat had other ideas and decided this wasn’t a terribly clever plan, so I barely made it back from the letterbox before my symptoms were back with a venegence. Okay, I get the point – much rest and doing of nothing (although I am managing some of the washing – just to spite Gosbat a teeny bit).
I’m drinking a rather nice mixture of lemon and sugar and hot water to ease the pain.