The Cold

I’m sick. I’ve been feeling very crappy over the past couple of days. There’s a great temptation to cut off my leaking nose. I had a flu shot before coming here, but obviously, it’s not had much effect. Or perhaps I’ve been stricken by something else. The Singapore Doctor offered me some strong gin yesterday, which seemed to alleviate things somewhat – but only for a while. It’s definitely time for another glass.

And so, the mind’s not working well today. No finely-composed entry. Instead, here's a stream of consciousness meandering that pretty much reflects my murky thoughts this day…

…Fall leaves and colours everywhere not as bad as I’d expected but I don’t understand the seminar yesterday and the graphs on externalities and what pollution abatement is, and the food at the hall still sucks, with the roast lamb tasting like cardboard. I notice the faces on the wall will remain there. And what the heck was all that talk about policy networks about? Epistemic communities? More GST? She wasn’t around today. There’s an assignment on public goods. Friday at Tottenham Court Road, but where's the classoom? And who will come for the faculty dinner? Who will be interested? The tea today was bad. Pei pa gou is an acquired taste. But gin therapy surely is much better? Together with some chocolate. But no more turpentine. More Cornish pasties today, with sultana and muffins. ‘Ice on the sidewalk and brittle branches in the air’, and there’re some things too difficult to say, except that the plant continues to die…

That’s enough. Cough cough hack hack splutter splutter croak.