I'm sick. Sick of it all. Not the band (they're OK), just literally sick.
Physically, because I stupidly ignored my own instincts and ate a whole plate of Penang Char Kueh Teow that had half a dozen jumbo-sized king prawns in it. Not a good idea when I know full well that I'm allergic to those tasty crustaceans. So, here I lie in bed with a moderately high fever and the feeling that my tonsils are about to come out of my ears in the next few moments.
But, whatever about the physical side of things (nothing a bit of Panadol, Merocaine, cough syrup, Sudafed and nasal spray couldn't cure), the mental problems are proving harder to remedy.
The lack of Vespa riding will eventually cure itself once I can manage to get back on my feet. It's the one problem that's beyond my control that's causing me to develop this mental illness. Some might call it rage. Some might say it's just me being over emotional. Some might even say that all this is just some sort of knee-jerk reaction to a problem that will eventually fade away. I disagree.