“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, except a bird flew into my giant freak head”

Seinfeld
Elaine

Or should that be couchridden? I am not sure, but suffice to say that after a week of nursing Nicole back to health I find myself afflicted with a far more mild (thank God) version of her flu. I have spent the last 2 days on the couch watching daytime TV (I don’t know how people can stand daytime TV) and wishing I were better so I could take advantage of being off work. No such luck though, today I feel much better but feel that tomorrow rather than play hookie, I should probably go and catch up on all the stuff with which I will be deluged when I get back. Not only that, but being sick always allows you to ponder things that you wouldn’t usually have the time to think about, and yet makes no provision for you to write it down or record it in any way. I suppose though, it is rather like being delerious, in the way that even though you think it makes sense at the time and some of it seems revolutionary, to the sober or healthy mind it is drivel at best. For example, I had to go into work on Saturday to do some configurations on the main switch but was already feeling somewhat under the weather.

The conversations I had, although I was convinced that they were filled with technical brilliance and insight, were probably not unlike chatting with a drunk squirrel.

You get the picture.