There are those who, foot splintered by the icy steel jaws of a badger trap and poison lead rifle-ball ldged betwen their second and third rib, will in the bitter chill of a winter's night carry on, teeth clenched in grim determination, towards the completion of their daily rounds.

Alas, such a man I am not.

"Hai. Shokuinshitsu desu."

"H-hai. J-justin d-desu. I'm... sick."

And with that I let the phone drop from my palsied fingers to clatter on the hard floor, and curled up again, embryo-like, under the warm pergatory of my sick balnkets.

Were I in my youth this kind of call (made of course less dramatically by my Mom) would doubtless be followed by the celebratory bowl of corn flakes and the watching of Star Blazers. A day meant to be wasted at school but snatched back from the abyss could now be spent in the life-enriching activities I was so fond of. Watching TV and reading comics.

Well, I don't feel the same way about school now as then, and missing even part of a day gives me a terrible guilty feeling and means more work for tomorrow... but I just happen to have some episodes of that cartoon here with me...