It's not finished ...

I'm still dying with this cold/bug/tuberculosis/black death thing and today i've even developed an impressive homeless-trampy-person sounding death rattle.

It's persistant, hacking and loud enough to wake up my colleague Rustle in the office next to mine : "woarrrrr that's a nasty cough you've there me ol' cocker" he keeps saying.

Getting on and off the metro then having to hike around a very dodgy quartier in southern Paris yesterday, for a customer call, was the last straw, me thinks.

I very nearly didn't go in to work today ( it was *this* close) but i obviously, finally, decided to butch it out anyway

Upon my arrival i was instantly greeted by a phone call from MissusBossWoman : "Come ti chiami" ... ôôôôôô mon dieussss, make it stoooooooooop.

I can imagine her face was picture when i croaked back in my new found horror-story voice "mi chiamo ... guasto ambulante"

...

I should really be in bed right now with the hot water bottle and the chicken soup, building my forces in preparation for tonights battle with the demonic forces that wake me up at about three in the morning.

Woe is me

:@(