I hate being ill


I do so hate being ill.

As a general rule, I’m usually in rude health for most of the time. Sadly, I managed to collect a particularly insidious little cold virus over the weekend. It has contrived to give me a tickly throat, then sniffles, then sneezes, and now insists on producing copious amounts of mucus.

I wouldn’t mind, but the currently affected nostril—it’s never both together, have you ever noticed?—has been contrived to be impossible to clear by blowing, and lets me know it needs more of my precious time by gently letting snot drip down my upper lip.


This time last year, the world threw a particular doozy at me. Aside from the usual symptoms, including two days in actual bed with a fever, that particular little bug made me deaf. My ears are still not quite right even now.

We are going away for a few days. It looks like a couple of them will be spent fighting off this cold. Nice.

How about it, Science? Forget feeding the world, forget climate change, forget creating thorium nuclear energy—oh, wait, sorry. You’d already forgotten that one. How about throwing some resources at finding a cure for the common cold?

I’m joking, of course. The common cold virus mutates so quickly it will probably be impossible to find a vaccine for it. Shame.