"I've got a ... straw."

*flourishes Bendy Straw o' Doom, which is good for (a) small sips of vile electrolyte mix (b) Plasmavore impersonations*

The worst of the, er, purge has been and gone. But I'm still cold, shivery, achy and dizzy. Can't stay awake. Can't read. Certainly can't write.

Sam has been looking after me. I have a minor black eye where he jumped onto the bed, and missed.

Have to go to werk tomorrow. (Big deadlines looming.)

Shall take my Straw.