There's that moment, in B-grade horror movies, where the heroine, who has been running through the forest trying to escape an anonymous danger for a good ten minutes, stops behind a tree gulping for breath. She hears feet pounding past and breathes a sigh of relief. A premature sigh of relief - WHAM she's down within 30 seconds.
Yeah, I got DOOM in my blood. Which means I can't give blood on Thursday. After breathing razor blades all night I hiked over to a doctor in Chatswood who didn't tell me anything I didn't know ("it's a viral infection") although he did say it was upper respiratory and not likely to progress further and then gave me a doctor's certificate for two days off work.
I went up to work and downloaded some info onto my USB drive so I could "work at home", then went home, ate brunch, watched 'Garden State', did the crossword and fell asleep. Now I'm downing paracetemol and lemon & honey concoctions like there's no tomorrow. There is no tomorrow. I'm going sleep right through it.
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