Sometimes you wake up and instantly know that you are SICK.
Feverish, weak and trembly, I croaked at Timshel “I think I’m dying.” As we fumbled about in darkness, picking up pieces of clothing and randomly stuffing them in our packs I whispered “Sorry. Can’t move very fast.”
Problem was, this was a morning that required swift movement. Getting to Spain necessitated a 20 minute walk, 2 train trips, a 50 minute bus ride, a two hour flight, and 40 minute car trip. Our schedule allowed very little time for dilly-dallying, dragging ones feet or vomiting.
Which was unfortunate, because, walking to the tube in the beautiful dawn light of Hanover Road, Willesden, London, I really felt like vomiting.

Despite the vivid imaginings of my inner drama-queen (“I’m going to vomit all over this path, I feeeell ssssoooooo sick, ooh look there’s a bush I could vomit in that bush”), I stumbled my way to Willesden tube station vomit-free. We were roughly on schedule*.

*Please note that being ‘roughly on schedule’ wouldn’t have presented any problems if the tube had been running as normal BUT…

This entry was posted on Saturday, March 18th, 2006 at 8:53 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.