I should frame this day and celebrate it every year. Today I woke up with a head on that said, "take me to work and you will sufferrrrrrrrrrrrrr" So I bunked off work and phoned everyone to tell them I was ill. My boss was out, so I couldn't talk to her (in fact I think she was home sick too) but she phoned in to pick up her messages and phoned me back. I explained the situation to her and she said that was OK. Well, she said loads of stuff, it was a long phone call, so I guess you can say I did do some work today. But at the end of it she said, "Don't worry, I quite understand, and don't like, feel guilty about staying home or anything." So I stayed home, ate yoghurt and wrote the next chapter of my porno novel. And didn't feel guilty at all. I even resisted the urge to do chores.
Now, about tomorrow. Damian suggests a nosegay. Shelley suggests coconut hair wax. Ian suggests erecting a cardboard wall across the room. I'm hoping the dentist will get tough with me (that's what I'm doing first thing tomorrow) so at least I'll be numb till noon.
I can't figure out whether the ideal solution would be something complex or something very, very simple ...
