Monday, June 06, 2005

A treatise on diseases

Invariably, when I stop working for any reason (such as Christmas, summer holiday, the Elk Parade), within a few days of relaxing, I get ill. I don't mean that in an old school rap sense, I mean that in a shivering, nose-blowing sense. A week of nebulous illness, characterised by malaise and my own repeated claims that I am going to die.

So when I took two weeks off the comic (two weeks ago), I, like Mr T in Rocky 3, predicted pain. But as the two weeks were filled with nothing but high-octane, high stress business tasks, pestilence never arrived.

Now my two weeks are over, wasted under a pile of shipping materials and tax returns, I have to return to work. Unfortunately though, since I made the classic mistake of relaxing on Thursday and Friday, I am now sick as a dog.

Except of course, now I have to work while ill. I can't really write when I'm sick, so next week's comics are probably going to be pictures of microbes and extrapolations of some of the confusing fever dreams I have experienced in between waking up and feeling hot ten-millionty times a night. It's going to be awful.


Eve said...

I am right in saying you are not going to be at the San Diego Comic-con this year? I hope it is all a mistake!

Patches said...

It is the stress/work train which keeps disease at bay. Never let it stop. Never. When old people retire from work what happens? Death. Thats right. Death.

Get Well Soon.

Angela said...

John, so sorry you are sick! I am loving the Guestin', but hope you are well enough to come back next week.

ps. I never realized how much Pa Beckworth looked like Phil Collins, that line in today's strip is so perfect!