even though you could be sick at any time?
I'm being stalked by a bug. It's lurking in the corner of my vision, flexing its muscles and trying out special effects on my hapless form. I'm tired, crotchety (apologies to the nice young man who wanted advice during my lunch hour, he probably didn't deserve to be snarled at just because he can't read the notice on my door), glandular, sinusy and incredibly slow to think or move. Except all of it is only slightly, increasing only in tiny increments, so I can't really say I'm "sick". Either it'll get in all its practice on me and rollick off to the next victim, snickering, or I'm about due to be laid extremely low by something epic. News at 111.
For some reason feeling under the weather tends to make me default to watching mindless action flicks every evening, which is distressing because I've come to the end of my James Bond collection (all the Pierce Brosnan ones). On Sunday I wantonly introduced the Evil Landlord to the joys of Mr and Mrs Smith, more or less in revenge for Thursday's True Lies, which annoyed me more than somewhat owing to (a) the block of wood impersonating the lead character, and (b) the INCREDIBLE SEXISM! The scene in the hotel room with the wife forced to impersonate a prostitute for her husband's enjoyment may have done irreparable harm to my blood pressure. However, clumsy and unlikely Harrier jump-jet rescue scenes ftw. Mr and Mrs Smith, on the other hand, infallibly makes me giggle like a schoolgirl, it's so magnificently silly. And, may I add, rife with extended metaphor, so there.
OK, bugger this for a lark, I feel like hell. Going home early, and the Dear Little Students can possess their angst-ridden souls in patience until the morning, when hopefully some serious sleeping will have bored the lurking bug into packing up its symptom kit and buggering off.
1 Except I'm not allowed to say that because otherwise wolverine_nun waits up until 11 especially, and gets all disappointed.2
2 I'd swear she said as much in a comment once, but I can't find it. Possibly I hallucinated it. At any rate, I can report that I use the phrase "In other news" ridiculously often, and "News at 11" marginally less so.
For some reason feeling under the weather tends to make me default to watching mindless action flicks every evening, which is distressing because I've come to the end of my James Bond collection (all the Pierce Brosnan ones). On Sunday I wantonly introduced the Evil Landlord to the joys of Mr and Mrs Smith, more or less in revenge for Thursday's True Lies, which annoyed me more than somewhat owing to (a) the block of wood impersonating the lead character, and (b) the INCREDIBLE SEXISM! The scene in the hotel room with the wife forced to impersonate a prostitute for her husband's enjoyment may have done irreparable harm to my blood pressure. However, clumsy and unlikely Harrier jump-jet rescue scenes ftw. Mr and Mrs Smith, on the other hand, infallibly makes me giggle like a schoolgirl, it's so magnificently silly. And, may I add, rife with extended metaphor, so there.
OK, bugger this for a lark, I feel like hell. Going home early, and the Dear Little Students can possess their angst-ridden souls in patience until the morning, when hopefully some serious sleeping will have bored the lurking bug into packing up its symptom kit and buggering off.
1 Except I'm not allowed to say that because otherwise wolverine_nun waits up until 11 especially, and gets all disappointed.2
2 I'd swear she said as much in a comment once, but I can't find it. Possibly I hallucinated it. At any rate, I can report that I use the phrase "In other news" ridiculously often, and "News at 11" marginally less so.