Back to work

St Andrews from the pier

This morning I’m going back to work after three days off sick.

It started with my feeling really tired on Monday afternoon — I went straight to bed when I finished work. By Tuesday morning it was clear that during the night someone had coated my throat with shards of broken glass. I slept for much of Wednesday.

But by yesterday afternoon the soreness had subsided and I had that feeling of slight euphoria that you get when you realise that you’ve beaten ill-health once again and will live to see another week through on this fine planet that we call home.

And then my nose started to run. And block up. And my mouth began to feel drier than the Mojave desert, as though I’d been snacking on cat litter. I haven’t been.

I couldn’t breathe in bed last night, even with my 3 pillows and the BBC World Service. I finally passed out sometime after 03:30. Having watched Kill Bill on DVD. Volumes one and two.

Because that’s what I need going back to work, to an urgent project that needed to be finished this week, on a server that I couldn’t access from home: only four hours of sleep.

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