Illness

Being me isn't easy. It's really, really hard. Oh who the fuck am I trying to kid, my life is so easy I wouldn't know a dilemma if I was balls-deep in one. The closest i've ever come to trauma is when my dog died, and I was a thousand miles away getting head on a ski lift when that happened. (It was cold.)

But last night, after being torn apart like fresh bread at a martial arts class, I started to feel ill. Today at work I was so green and sweaty and shaky that my awesome boss, and he really is awesome but more on him at a later date, sent me home and gave me tomorrow off.

I'm actually going to cut this post short because a conversation on FailBook has reminded me of the actual thing I was going to blog about, and I have no idea where I was going with this one. Sorry.