Some of you may know that these articles are all written in advance. At least I think I mentioned it in a previous article. It’s generally about a week ahead. The main aim of this is so that I don’t suffer any publishing mishaps and therefore fail to publish anything on a particular day. Well clearly it hasn’t quite worked as from time to time an article fails to appear for a day. But they always turn up eventually.
For some reason the day I’m most usually late on is Monday. I’m not exactly sure why this is but a team of miniature Sherpas are currently planning an expedition into my brain. At least that’s what it feels like. I’m sick and not in a “man-‘flu” kind of way either. Of course I would say that wouldn’t I.
Anyway the reason I mention the articles being written is because I noticed something very weird about an article that I wrote around a week ago. Which in fact is yesterday’s article Bob… Great Sir.. Clearly I was beginning to go down with this thing then because one of the characters mentions briefly, and never refers to it again, that he has a head-cold. The subconscious is an odd thing.
Anyway the reason I mention my illness is not to try and garner sympathy. But simply to try and help direct some of the science research into colds and ‘flu. I think it’s possible that these two viruses are desperately trying to turn us into crocodiles.
No? You don’t believe me? First it makes you not want to eat very often. Also it turns you a rather interesting shade of green. Your eyes and nostrils start leaking big sloppy crocodile tears. And here’s the clincher, you become completely cold blooded. Whatever the temperature of the room you react to it immediately when you’re sick.
You start off being cold so you pile on another blanket. Then you’re burning up. The answer is that whil;e it seems like our bodies just can’t decide what they want, in reality we’re just unable to regulate for ourselves. Suddenly we have to consciously estimate how many blankets equals 28 degrees C. It’s something we don’t usually do. Which is why we’re so rubbish at it.
Anyway so I’m pretty sure it’s making us cold blooded. But perhaps it’s not a crocodile.
So what do we have, cold-blooded, sits around moping, eats lots of toast. Hmmm? If one of you says “men” I’ll be very upset.
Note: I thought this would be better than “Alex Andronov is Away”.