Cold War Kid
It’s a fair cop: I had a day off, well two but I didn’t know that today, with a cold. It’s easy to mock people who don’t go to work because of a cold (I find shouting “you fucking pathetic bastard you call that an illness?” at these people is easy enough) but I was properly bedbound. It wasn’t even lying in bed watching television: I was asleep almost all the morning and most of the afternoon. I tried to watch a programme about how religion and The English were linked, result: asleep. I woke up and put an American indie film on about some people travelling around meeting friends and family in which nothing happened, result: asleep. I tried to listen toInteriors (the radio version of the play I had seen at theManchester International Festival four years ago) and FELL ASLEEP.
A documentary about religion, a slow burning indie film and a radio drama all led to sleep. You do the math, I was ill.
The most frustrating thing to keep sleeping through was Interiors. The show at the MIF had been really interesting and involved being shown around a house by the only character in the play (Johhny Vegas) it was a bit odd and very dark in places but I had loved it. It was the first bit of non-conventional theatre I had watched and the idea of people/a person creating drama walking around a house with me and 20 other people, rather than on a slightly raised platform while I sat down in a row of chairs, blew my fucking mind. From now on people can come and do this in my house, I thought, I never need to go to somewhere to watch a play again. Sadly this would not become vogue and I would once again have to go out into the real world to watch things.
But my cold stopped me doing so. My blocked nose was depriving me of air and making me unable to stay awake. I’m bang against people taking sickies and to some a day, or two, off with a cold is poor form. But I was unable to stay awake and I didn’t think it was very appropriate to snot all over everyone I work with. Mainly though I looked bunged up and sounded bunged up so it would only be a matter of time before someone used the phrase ‘man flu’. I despise the phrase and people who think they are funny while using it. I am not saying I have the flu, or exagerrating anything: I just can’t stay awake or breathe so being at work is, if anything, unprofessional.
Regardless of still having four limbs and not having a diminished life expectancy (I don’t have AIDS) colds are still a right pain in the arse (not literally). The amount of snot one produces over a few days is mind-blowing. I also hate it when you get to a point where you are out of snot and you sniff and it’s like your head is going to implode because you have created a vacuum. I am also troubled by a big sneeze. I sneeze way big. Sometimes it hurts my sneezes are so big: in my upper chest, the muscles feel like they are burning. However, at some stage during Sunday I clearly did a sneeze that hurt the muscles in my shoulder as every sneeze I did today was fucking agony. Again: let’s be clear, I am not saying this is 1% of childbirth or influenza but does everything have to be so fucking terrible in order to be acknowledged as bad?
Black Hole Sun
In the past people have accused me of looking like the actor Jack Black. I refute this. However, I will admit this picture of me DOES look like him a bit. There may have been some iPad trickery involved.