National Sickness

February 7, 2011 at 8:29 am Leave a comment

Main symptoms of swine flu. (See Wikipedia:Swi...

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So, apparently, today is unofficial “National Sickie Day”, when over 300,000 people will ring in sick and huddle under their duvets with Jeremy Kyle. This is not due to an epidemic of Swine Flu but is the result of a great national depression – the result of normal Monday Morning Blues, compounded with that post-Christmas depression, the state of the economy, the weather, and that awful certainty that smarmy Bill Turnbill will be adorning the great red sofa on BBC News. And, no doubt, people staying up late with a Bud to watch the Super Bowl overnight.

To be honest, if Birmingham City hadn’t thrashed the mighty West Ham (again) one nil yesterday to climb to the heady heights of sixteenth position in the Premiership, then I may well have joined them. You have to be a Blues fan to fully understand a great depression, with mood swings ranging from huge optimism to absolute dispair. But, the Great Ginga (Alex McLeish) seems to have the rub of the green (a mixed metaphor for sure) at the moment if only when it comes to playing teams in claret and blue.

And the weather this weekend. It has been verily apocalyptic. Reminiscent of the great Bradwall Flood – read about it here. It rained non-stop all day Saturday and most of yesterday. And the wind. Oh, the wind. It played havoc with my hair. And, it whistled through the loft access like a screaming banshee. The cat doesn’t like it. He runs (well waddles – the diet isn’t working. Bad parents!) around the house wailing at the corners of the ceilings…….and then sleeps). Thankfully, the tonne or so of Cheshire Pink gravel (what else) that I deposited like a sea defence in the Spring last year did its job and prevented the hallway from flooding, pushing the several inches of rainwater that the Welsh deposited upon us to the periphery of the property. It looked like we had a moat. But, the wind was the main issue. I had to go and don my Hunters and do wrestle with the cover over the garden table on more than one occasion, while retrieving the cat’s poo bags that had been scattered to the four corners of the garden. And, this is Cheshire darlings, so that is one heck of a trek.

And, I’ve not been well. I have been struck down with my second bout of Man Flu in just three months. I spent Boxing Day and the day after in my sick-bed and last week I was stuck down again. While mere mortals and all females would have been hospitalised, yours truly soldiered on and worked on through despite a four am get up and day trip to Antwerp. But, my malady lingers on. Every night I sweat and ache through my fever and awake, tired, with a head full of congestion. It is as if that very, very, very small space between my brain and cranium is full of thick, green, horrible snot. And a tired, grumpy, Brummie with a snotty head and blocked nose is not a sight for sore eyes in the morning.

And, I was working most of the weekend. I was working on contract schedules all day on Saturday – locked away upstairs in the study as C overdosed on Rom Coms. And, despite being at the sister-in-laws for lunch yesterday, trying to keep in touch with work through the magic of iPhone. This was less than successful due to a mail server error and an expired ActiveSync password. Bloody frustrating. Will they never sign that bloody contract?!?

So, I am not throwing a sickie. I have dragged myself kicking and screaming from my dressing gown and am now officially “working from home”. I have waived C off in the middle of a gale to go and mend minds, and, as soon as I have had that second mug of tea I will turn my attention to the contractual implications of PCI DSS Certification.

And, for all of you who HAVE thrown a sickie, I hope that Jeremy Kyle is a good one.


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2010 in review I Should Have Been A Lawyer

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