Casey McCall: Hey, you wanna get involved with this?
Dan Rydell: I so don’t.
Casey McCall: You used to care about these things.
Dan Rydell: Yes.
Casey McCall: And it wasn’t that long ago that you did.
Dan Rydell: No.
Casey McCall: I mean, it was, like, yesterday.
Dan Rydell: Right.
Casey McCall: Now, when I say “yesterday”, I am not speaking metaphorically. I mean, it was yesterday. What happened to your values?
Dan Rydell: I find that maintaining them is a lot of work. I take a day off every now and then.
Casey McCall: You take a vacation from doing the right thing?
Dan Rydell: Yeah. I don’t loot storefronts or anything, but once in a while, when I consider the effort it takes to diligently adhere to a moral compass, I take myself out of the lineup and I rest for the next game.
Casey McCall: I swear, you can run for congress and win.

Now we know this isn’t anything simple like, oh say child birth. Every man out there knows the pain I speak of when I mention man flu. Yes my friends, the epidemic sweeping the nation has hit me and knocked me for six. The soar throat has arrived now following on from Thursday’s hilarious (for everyone else who works with me) ‘too hot too cold’ extravaganza. 

I hastily arranged for a rest day to be swapped to yesterday so that I could take the day off and rest, but I forgot to take into account the leaving party for one of my closest friends. I called work at 7am and then was out of it til 12 and I looked at my phone to see I had text after text and the one that scared me the most was from the aforementioned ‘closest friend’ which just said – “Oi!”. So at 7pm I dragged my sorry cough and snot ridden self to a bar, had a few drinks and endured the night. Considering my usual status on nights out, this was very restrained behaviour from myself. Any of my bosses that saw me there will hopefully understand that I had to make an appearance.

The truth is I think yesterday (the bit before the booze) did well for me because today my sickness is less. A day of ‘being still like a vegetable’ and the same again tomorrow should work the cure before work and the 8 DAY WEEK comes a callin’ on Monday!

I hate being ill but I take to it like an old pro. Bed for days, good shit on the DVD and fluids - takeaway pizza counts as fluid because of the tomato sauce that comes on it. I shall have to be careful not to give the Papa John’s man too much time with yours truly otherwise he may be infected too and that would be a disaster for all future pizza buyers.

What makes it worse is this weekend was supposed to be mega. Sarah said she was free when I asked at the start of the week, then she suddenly remembered that her brother was leaving the country on Sunday and wanted to spend the day with him. She never actually told me any of that, she told me about the leaving on Sunday part and then let me figure out the part that meant she was cancelling Saturday. It’s a shame too, because it has meant no one to pat my head better or make comforting noises in my direction as they nurse me back to health. Oh no, none of that for yours truly.

This is probably the last post of the weekend because the living room is cold and I have a warm bed that I like to stay in at times like this. 

Peace, love and drippy noses! Moulty x