One of the most pleasurable of all decisions is the decision that you really are too sick to go to work. I have much guilt about sickness engendered by my years at boarding school. Skiving off was the worst of crimes and the weakest of characters were the skivers. The first level of skiving was to get a “leave off” from Matron. This was a little pink slip that allow non participation of rugby on ground as hard as iron as the Siberian winds scythed across the playing fields. It also allowed you not to go on marathonian cross-country runs in the freezing rain. Matron gave few. As for going to bed, this was reserved for cases of rabies, stomach wounds and major fractures.
However, I have been growing soft and after enduring general misery, pain and shaking all over for a few days, I take to my futon. I sleep for 2 days. Bliss.
My last action prior to collapse was to take my car to the dreaded shaken, the very expensive Japanese roadworthiness test.
I rise from my bed of slumber to go pick up the car.
Quivers down the backbone
Yeah, the shaken in the knee bone
I got the tremors in the thigh bone
Shaken’ all over !
Think I will go back to bed.