I was sick. As 32cats put it in that gentle, considerate way of his, I was physically sick too. But that was yesterday. Today, I’m out of the sick-bay, in the office and doing absolutely nothing whatsoever.
Which, I admit, is not very different from what I did yesterday. Mostly I just slept and went to the doctor and slept and tried to watch Munich and gave up and slept and ate and slept and watched TV and slept and blogged and slept and saw Housesitter on Zee Studio and slept. Naturally, at 12:30 a.m. I was wide awake and raring to go. Without anywhere to go, except to my bed. Again.
So I was a little keen on having a good start to my day today. One that preferably involved my nasal passage being decongested, my breakfast with some small element of taste and my office-card being punched in on time.
Instead, I ended up wolfing down my breakfast, while my brother read out the following news snippets to me:
Breast feeding gives Gwen Stefani special powers Elton John can’t get over cleavages
I blanked out after these, but I suspect there were more. Anyway, as soon as I stepped out of my building, some bird with an overactive intestine decided to do its business all over my clothes. Which means I had to go back home, change, grab a taxi and reach office late as usual.
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