Sick

I think I'm a bit ill today.

I'm off me grub, which is definitely an ominous portent, in much the same way as you'd be concerned about your dog if you offered him a steak dinner treat and he fussily turned away and starting licking his groin instead.

I've got no jokes either. I tried one there above about the dog and his dinner, in an effort to underline how fundamentally in love with food I am and therefore indicate how not being able to eat is a sign that all is not well, but it didn't really work and I'm not really bothered about changing it either. That's a bad sign too.

There's something amiss alright. My stomach feels empty but I can't eat. I'm sleeping like Rip Van Diesel but am still knackered and nodding off at my desk while I'm typing this. My brain is fogged up and I feel like I'm seeing the world through that frosty glass they use for toilet windows.

Worst of all, the hot wan in the office is wearing something awfully nice today and I can't even be bothered sneaking sly glances at her. It's all terribly confusing. I never get sick, I'm normally healthy as a horse. I think I was last under the weather back in 2001, and hangovers apart, have barely sniffled since.

All things told, and I'm not one for over reacting, it's quite possible that I'm going to die. If there's no blog for a while, you can assume the worst.

Now I'm fucking off home before I collapse.