It is a certainty that any extended time off work will be accompanied with whatever cold/bug is available. So it has been this Christmas, where I first started to feel off-colour Christmas Eve, kept “it” at bay for the larger part of the main day - helped by a paracetamol and ibuprofen combo, but finally succumbed Boxing Day where I spent most of the time stumbling around, bent over, waiting to throw up. I am back on the upward slope, full of cold - or the after-affects - and food. My in-laws were particularly generous; clothes I will actually wear, Blu-rays I will actually watch and a large box of chocolates I will actually... well, it’s chocolate isn’t it.
I’ve watched a few films - not many; I was surprised to like The Young Victoria as much as I did and Son of Rambow lived up to its reputation. I caught up on three series of Fringe, the first series of The Wire, Misfits is terrific and there’s a new series of Friday Night Lights waiting. I’ve even started on a new book. So I've relaxed, eaten a huge amount and I’ve suffered too; I may even have lost weight - an illness can be unpleasant, but it’s effective. Yes alright, maybe not.
Liturgy of Article 50
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