On Tuesday afternoon, the air-conditioning at work spent a good couple of hours feeding me with bacteria that came from all the other people in our wee little office. Upon arriving at home, the colonies took the whole evening to build new civilisations within me, thus incapacitating me for work yesterday.
I'm back at work, still feeling rat-shit (can I get away with a four letter word here?), but it's interesting to me how I found ways to occupy my time yesterday.
Most of it was moaning on the couch, very similar to Billy Crystal in When Harry Met Sally, but I actually powered through an Orson Scott Card novella and started another John Connolly. I attempted non-fiction (RAZOR, an account of the razor gangs in 1920s Sydney), but I found I had to keep re-reading sentences for them to sink in.
When I'm sick or hung-over (yes, that happens on a rare occasion), I find it impossible to write, difficult to read or play computer games, but generally it's pretty easy to watch some kind of light movie (I ended up whiling away my evening with Ring Zero, which while not light entertainment, did have a relaxing pace).
So what do y'all do when you're laid up in bed for all the wrong reasons?