I fear it got me. That dreaded feel of a lurgy that is not quite a bacterial infection waiting to happen nor was it a veisalgia. I refer to the feeling of this morning using the words of Terry Pratchett:
I was hung under.
The normal cure process begins with a Sausage sandwich, which appeared around midday courtesy the restaurant upstairs – something I needed. By the way, if you are a vegetarian who works in the same organisation as I do and you like sausages, they have quorn ones upstairs now. Not sure on prices.
So, sausage sandwich with ketchup and mustard down my throat, I was prepared for this afternoons meeting (which went well). I enjoyed catching up with friends (which reminds me that I need to invite someone to an event in June on Facebook) and was glad that the building didn’t go up in smoke. Actually, I think I need to expand on that:
In event of a fire, you should proceed out the door you came in through, turn left and follow my colleague Bruce* out to safety. Do not under any circumstances follow me, as I go to a refuge area to get rather warm.
Declan* said that it should be minuted that the meeting thanked me for my sterling efforts and it was nice knowing me.
Got home and made a cracking curry with MBW, who is about to go on Nil By Mouth for a minor procedure on Weds. Poor princess.
I’m now drinking beer so that I can have a veisalgia in the morning… only a slight one, though.
Oh, my day was made when I hear my blog entry on the bus lift was read out at a conference in London. Woo!
*name policy – click the link above.