2004-12-21..5:17 p.m.

So last week was a write off. Tuesday found me at the doctors and Wednesday, Thursday and Friday found me dying.
Funny thing that happened last week: I was prescribed antibiotics. Not so funny in itself, though it was the first time in about six years that I was on any. So I take my prescription and walk out the doctor�s office, and turn left and walk the fifteen feet to the Chemists, still holding he prescription. I talk to the chemist about the side-effects, decide they�re not as bad as the growing chesty pressure and leave the slip with him while I go to get some money. So far so good. On the way back I start swaying. My vision gets blurry. There�s a roaring waterfall cascading in my ears and slowly filling up my brain. My nose corresponds, my eyes well up, and the pounding in my head won�t stop. Back at the chemists I very woozily paw through my bag looking for the money I�d just taken out. Everything comes out. The contents of my bag dumped on the glass counter I count out my change. Everything gets put back in. Except not everything. Wednesday morning I go to call work and realise I don�t have a phone. I hunt high, I hunt low, I dump out my bag, I dump out Matthew�s bag, I tear up the living room and put it back together. I dubiously call my number: IT WAS STILL AT THE CHEMISTS!! The lovely owner kept it there for me safe and sound until three days later when I was well enough to wobble up to pick it up.

M sent me his band's website and fuck me if I don�t think he�s the foxiest guy in the world. He is Grundy le Zimbra and I am his monkeymeepiemoo.

****meep