Blogging is like sex: it comes in spurts. I find myself with nothing to post for days, and then suddenly something turns up.
I took this shot over the weekend, as a storm rolled in over the flats. I tinkered with the contrast to make it really dark and brooding, more a reflection of mood than weather really. This was the extent of productive work that I managed for the weekend: my cough got so bad that my GP recommended me to a hospital for tests (this was what happened to me on Friday night, in lieu of joining the gang for a game).
I must say I was a horrible patient: the doctor kept recommending that I ward myself for observation and further testing, but I couldn't bear the thought of staying in a hospital. I hate hospitals (even while conceding that this particular one was the nicest I've ever been to): K predicts that I will be an extremely grumpy and stubborn patient when old, and she's probably right. I'll be one of those people that has to be dragged by his children to the hospital, and who tries the patience of doctors and nurses alike. I'll be "that old man in Bed 16", that they bitch about on their coffee breaks.
Anyway, I've got a lot better: I only get gut-wrenching coughing fits about once an hour, instead of every few minutes, and the fever's gone. Only thing is this horrible headache, new for today, that hits me like a compressive force around the temples - must've been the heat. I really wanted at that point to go back home and crawl into somewhere dark and cool (like under the sheets), but had to get some things done, and the headache went away as the day cooled down. Must remember sunglasses for tomorrow.