Bubble and Squeak

I’m just about recovered from a nasty set of flu-like symptoms. I’m being cautious with the descriptor because the symptoms came on so strangely it could have been laryngitis followed by food poisoning. On Saturday I lost most of my voice over the course of three hours, which was an especially odd experience because I also happened to be in the Steward’s Enclosure at the Henley Royal Regatta. I didn’t lose my voice hootin’ and hollerin’ for the Harvard crew (tut), although there was a gravelly “Go, Crimson!” or two. Henley — a time machine with canvas walls and mud floors and perhaps the most champagne-endowed parking lot in the world — deserves its own entry, but at the moment I don’t have the coherence to do justice to an event with insanely stripy blazers, delicious oysters, and guards posted to make sure my mandatory skirt didn’t reveal my knees.

I spent Sunday raspy and squeaky and tired but well supplied by A with broth and Chloraseptic. I didn’t have any reason to expect the dramatic involvement of my gastrointestinal system on Monday night (“Hi, Carrot Soup! Bye, Carrot Soup!). That kept me up until 3:00 a.m., but I still managed a fairly heavy-duty conference call the next afternoon. I was supposed to go up north for the meeting, but I don’t like the Virgin Train bathrooms under the best of circumstances, so yeah, no travel. Plus I was starting to crave brains and I thought I would do my part to keep the zombie virus confined to Canary Wharf (like that ever works).

This morning was all about the hacking cough and inability to focus for more than three seconds, but I expect the latter was just an after effect of my stomach’s No Soup for You policy. I ate with more determination this afternoon (BRRRAAAIIIINNNSSSS), and although my throat is still clearing itself I have every reason to believe I’ll be up and at ’em tomorrow morning.

By the way, the UK equivalent of NyQuil is Night Nurse, which makes it ever so much easier to personify the comforting cuddly oblivion of the Other Green Fairy.

Of course none of this helped my Write-a-thon stats: didn’t wrap up the Week 3 story, and I haven’t picked up anything for Week 4. I’m going to renew plugging away at the Week 3 story and write off (ahem) Week Four. Official Reason: Debilitating Zombie Virus.

3 thoughts on “Bubble and Squeak

  1. Tracy

    So, did you go for the lime green feathered number, or was it the 10′ tall pink ribbon and peacock feather concoction? I’m dying to see pictures!

  2. Corrina

    Strange, I too suffered from what must have been the Stateside version of this funky zombie virus on Tuesday. Hmmm it seems to spread very quickly. I thought I was having the exquisitely painful experience of my first migraine, which felt very similar to my own brains being eaten. Quite suddenly though came the harsh enforcement of the No Soup for You policy by my stomach. As quickly as it came it also seems to have gone, I hope you’re feeling tip-top again soon.


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