Or something like that. But one my least favourite things is this bloody boomerang cough. Yup, I threw it away and it’s come back again. Which means being awake and hacking at half three in the morning.
Mind you, it gave me a couple of hours extra to work on a story I’m writing for a Dutch Anthology. Which is nice, in a delusional glass-is-half-full kind of way. Not sure about this one – the story not the anthology, which I’m sure will rock – in the words of She Who Must Go Into Work This Morning As The Place Grinds To A Halt Without Her: it’s a bit ‘icky’.
She does say that she wants to know how it ends, which is a good sign, but the story revolves around and inside a septic tank. So I can see where the ‘ickyness’ comes from*. I wonder if it’s all going to be a bit much. Hmm... There is another shorty fermenting in the old noodle, but that would mean another couple of days going at it like a mad thing. And it’s very violent. So there would still be ‘ick’ but a different kind of ‘ick’.
And I could do without the extra work right now. But I’m probably going to do it anyway. Because I’m stoooooooooopid.
And now – Strepsils** (incidentally – the Strepsils’ website has a link to something called ‘Mr Throat’s World’, but it sounds too dodgy to click on at this time of the morning. I mean if you were sitting at work and someone sent you a link to www.MrThroat.com what would you think?).
* The toilet.
** I’ve been taking these since yesterday afternoon and my tongue has gone a fetching shade of magenta. That has to be good for you!