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Sick bed August 10, 2006

Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
Darlings, I’m writing from my sick bed. Which is much like my normal bed, only I writhe about whinily in this one. Let no-one praise nature ever again. Whoever created us, the world, its moons and everything else also created volcanoes, earthquakes, Stoke-on-Trent and toothache, lest we forget.
Darlings, I’m too tanked up on painkillers and red wine – I think that’s the encouraged combination, nicht wahr? – to write anything coherent. I have done nothing but sleep and pop pills for a day-and-a-half. Now I am writhing and writing at 2am, the Russian looking unsympathetically on and asking, “What are you moaning about, дура (female idiot)?” or words to that effect.
The pain, the pain. I now know for sure I’d be hopeless at withstanding torture. I will not be stoical in the face of any major disease.
Give me wine. Give me drugs. Give me sleep. Give me peace.


1. Wyndham - August 10, 2006

Bib, you could be the modern Proust, the modern Oblomov, by posting a very long running commentary from your sick bed. Get well soon, old chap!

2. BiB - August 10, 2006

Actually, annoyingly, I had to get out of my sick bed to post this, as I had to have a good old fiddle around as e-mailing one’s blog now seems impossible. Something to do with passwords, methinks.

But Wynders, what made my sick bed even sicker was that it was there, as I had an innocent shufti through your virtual keyhole at, say, 1am, that I read your news. I feel bereft. You sound determined, but I have a secret hopette that the summer, plus other certain milestones, does this to a blogger. Gets them despondent. Plus you have other matters to attend to, such as Veronica’s wardrobe and Dexter’s riding lessons and securing a dream new job, but I still hope you’ll come back to us every now and again. You’re such a total staple of my blog-diet. No, you ARE my blog-diet.

Right, I’m off to swallow some more paracetamol. I must say, the one nice thing about being sick, even tooth-sick, is the amount of sleep. It’s heaven. Alas, I have to work, so mustn’t OD again just yet. I wish I Oblomovishly had a Zakhar to attend to my every need. Although the Russian’s and my conversations do resemble theirs, vaguely.

Be good to us, Wynders.

3. Wyndham - August 10, 2006

I shall be right there at your side through the cruel summer months Bib, and never say never again, but, in the old days I could just write any old shit off the top of my head, and recently it all seemed like hard work, basically because I’ve been a little bit nervous that I should be doing other things. But, you never know, Patroclus went a whole two years without blogging, maybe a few months away and I’ll return all fired up. And, of course, there’s my secret blog to practice on until then…

4. BiB - August 10, 2006

Ooh, a secret blog. I’m all giggly and excited like an Enid Blyton girl. (Well, I’d be more giggly if it weren’t for the toothache.) That can be one of my new work-avoiding tactics. Searching for THE OTHER BLOG.

Wynders, I had an insatiable urge last night, though this may have been because it was late, I was in pain, and was mainlining paracetamol-and-red-wine cocktails, but I had an insatiable urge to know your TRUE identity. Also fuelled, though I worry this was now a hallucination, as it’s gone again, by the fact that there was an e-mail address in your profile, which revealed, unless you have one of those complicated Celtic first names and a very short surname indeed, an initial and surname. Which was all so exciting. But was that someone else’s blog? Am I combining, in my head, Wynders and someone else’s nominal identity?

Anyway, today, teeth aching away and avoiding work lazily, I can cope with you being just Wynders again.

Good, I’ll hang on to the thought that you’ll perhaps be back. (You’ve started copycat actions. Kalahari Lighthouse has gone and jacked it all in too.)

5. Bowleserised - August 10, 2006

Secret blog, eh? I have to admit, since someone started paying me to do a whole different kind of blogging elsewhere, my own nice fun blog has tailed off a bit.

Still, as Vladimir Ilyich once said, we must step back in order to spring forward. Or “you take two steps forward I take two steps back” or similar.

BiB – do you think it’s the weather? Have you wrapped your jaw up in a handkerchief? Sorry that you’re mis.

6. BiB - August 10, 2006

B., paid to blog! That sounds marvellous.

Well, I’m not too bad. But I’ve never so much looked forward to a dentist’s appointment – tomorrow, 8am – in my life. I know she’ll instantly remove the pain. We really ought to fall in love, but her husband is also a dentist in the same practice, and she’s an Ossi and I can’t understand a word she says. Indeed, there are a number of obstacles to our romance.

7. Wyndham - August 10, 2006

I did have my e-mail address up there but I took it down, probably about one hour before you went looking for it! The last time I threatened to give up some nice people actually e-mailed me direct to encourage me to keep going,which was nice, but, as a result, I felt terribly guilty. This time, I thought I’d try and nip that in the bud.

I’ve got a feeling we’ll meet up sooner or later. If I come to Berlin you’re first on my list and, of course, it goes without saying that I demand an audience the next time you’re in London!

8. BiB - August 10, 2006

I’m feeling all gooey and pro-blog now. I might have to ignore my work and my toothache and pop out and meet Bowleserised and a few others this very second.

9. Tammi - August 10, 2006

I heard about your toothache at the happy hour (where you seem to be headed now, aches or not). Glad to hear you’re upright! Catch you next time. — Tammi

10. leon - August 11, 2006

If it’s any consolation then I’ve been wrestling with a particularly unpleasant bout of feverish, sore-throat-inducing viral nastiness since the weekend, so you have my sympathy. How I’ve managed to drag my miserable carcass into work this week is quite beyond me.

11. BiB - August 11, 2006

Tammi, sorry to have missed you. I am, indeed, upright. I’ve just had another wisdom tooth removed – both the dentist and the Russian have made the same joke – and had a lovely, big injection too so can’t feel anything yet. But today I mustn’t smoke, drink coffee or drink booze. Which makes me worry I’ll fade away to non-existence. Those are my three main occupations.

Leon, did you get your nastiness from hard living, or is it straightforward bad luck? I wish you a speedy recovery. Can you look forward to a whole weekend lounging around in bed? (Are your flatmates the nursely type?)

12. leon - August 11, 2006

Frankly it wasn’t helped by the fact I spent the weekend in a field, for several hours of which I was in a state of total undress (it’s a long story). That can’t have doen it any good, at least.

I’m probably looking forward to a weekend ministering to the person who transmitted it to me in the first place, who seems to have come off a bit worse than I have. As for my housemates, God knows…

13. annie - August 11, 2006

Toothache, bah! Dentists always grumble at me but the thing is, I think teeth are just really badly designed, and it’s not our fault. Hope you are no longer in pain.

14. BiB - August 11, 2006

Leon, this sounds suspiciously like romance to me. Or were you taking part in yet another one of those things where an artist gets a squillion people to take their kit off in public? In any case, get well soon.

Annie, I was bollocked by the dentist and her assistant – who I wish would wear sleeved garments – for not having been to see them for 2 years. This was my punishment, they assured me. The top left-hand ‘corner’ of my mouth does feel decidedly tooth-light, I have to say. (How did you manage to comment on the post with the little car? I can’t even see that post yet, as blogger seems to be, once more, up shit creek. Or perhaps it’s just this blog, or this computer.)

15. GreatSheElephant - August 11, 2006

ooh – does this mean your cheekbones are even more wonderful?

Glad to hear it’s feeling a bit better though.

16. BiB - August 11, 2006

GSE, is that what happens when your teeth are removed? You get cheekbones? I don’t think I’ve got cheekbones, to be honest. Perhaps it was just a cheekbone-shaped smudge the day we met? In which case, I must have one tattooed on permanently.

17. leon - August 12, 2006

[BiB] It was neither romance (don’t usually conduct that in fields, unless the weather’s very good anyway) nor an artistic endeavour, but more of a sauna, in a tent sort of thing. With a lot of equally naked (and it appears streptococcus-ridden) strangers, yes. I’m a bit better today, however.

18. BiB - August 12, 2006

Sauna in a tent! (Is that a Smiths song?) I saw one of those here once, but didn’t go in. Bad luck. Here it’s just verrucae and venereal diseases you get in saunas. Well, the ones that gay men force themselves to attend anyway. I must say, I don’t think I ever want to sauna again unless it’s the real deal – I’ve only done this once – on the edge of a lake in Finland in the glorious summer. Sauna, dip, sauna, dip. Total heaven. And beer and sausage afterwards. Keep getting better…

19. leon - August 18, 2006

Well, it was more of a yurt actually.

20. BiB - August 20, 2006

A sauna-yurt with naked disease-ridden strangers that you just happened to stumble across or that you headed to intentionally?

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