Eugh.... it's now day 2 of not being able to keep solids anywhere below my neck. I'm incredibly unimpressed with this whole scenario. I'm also exceedingly hungry. Super hungry. The sort of hungry where you keep licking people's arms a little bit in the vague hope that upper limbs taste like chicken. They invariably don't. I'm too scared to eat anything because so far everything I've eaten has been tasted twice and has made my stomach muscles contract like an accordion being played with particular exuberance.
This is also incredibly poorly timed food poisoning as, not only is it my final day of employment tomorrow before I take the plunge into being a starving artist, but the newspapers are also completely stuffed to the gunnels with stories about deadly E.Coli.
Now, I'm not one to jump on a hysteria bandwagon. Forgive me if I seem callous but 17 people dying of something worldwide doesn't strike me as a disease that's "sweeping" the continent. I think I'll put this E.Coli in the same box as swine flu and carry on wishing the papers weren't bored of the actual news like, oh I don't know, Libya... Syria... Egypt... remember these places? They seem to have dipped in the rankings slightly due to a suspected dirty cucumber.
What I will say though, is when you've had the wrong end of your body pointed at a toilet for 48 hours you almost start to wish it was E.Coli so that at least an end is in sight. For the slightly paranoid hypochondriacs among us, headlines like that and vomiting don't exactly ease us into bed to sip our Dioralyte with pleasure. Nothing could make you sip that stuff with pleasure - it's like drinking a watery blackcurrant milk juice.
For this reason I have not done anything I meant to do this week - ie, promoting the comedy season that's on next month, tidy my room even a smidgen, wash... How on earth is the modern woman supposed to juggle that many balls as well as having to hold her own hair out of the way?