I’ve finally succumbed to this virus that Leif’s been down with for some time.
No, wait. I refuse. I don’t have time to be feeling under the weather for that long. I have something else. That’s right. Something. Else.
My head is a block of concrete. I ache all over – you would too if you were lugging around a head full of concrete.
I haven’t got an original thought in my head to write about – or rather, I have ideas, but just can’t get it to be coherent. Or interesting. I blame the concrete.
And I’m being sent to bed early.