Currently I'm stuck with the sitting and the bandaged mummified toes, along with an irritating cough and the beginnings of a head cold. Tamsyn has a totally arrived cold, and is shuffling about bumping into things and making eldritch moaning sounds that cause the neighbouring dogs to howl with despair.
On the plus side it also keeps the Jehovahs Witnesses out, who I'm informed are specially trained to hear eldritch moaning from several blocks away.
So yeah, our currently disease free flatmate who I have affectionately nicknamed 'Chops' on the basis that it doesn't really suit her at all, will be barricading herself into her room tonight on the off chance that we end up rising from our bed at 3 am with a hankering for the brains of the living and plague dripping maws. It wouldn't be the first time and if I wake up covered in garlic and feeling moist but in a somewhat holy way, I'll try to be forgiving. It's the mature response.
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