“When ill, you are the master. You do what you like. You can wander over to the record player and put on your old Clash albums. Stare out of the window. Laugh inwardly at the sufferings of your coworkers. You can surrender to delirious netherworlds as you fall in and out of sleep. You can even imagine yourself to be a latter-day romantic poet, pale, consumptive, surrounded by beautiful adoring young girls.” ~ Tom Hodgkinson, “How To Be Idle”
I was surrounded by adoring rotten cats. Almost as good.