Got home from BTL yesterday afternoon, did mail and LJ a bit, then curled up in bed with tea and Marcus Didius Falco. Fell asleep, still dressed. Got woken up by Jus returning about 1am, maybe a bit later; more car troubles, the alternator having gone, and the RAC having been needed. No wonder he didn't feel like having a sick hot wombat babbling witlessly at him. Tried to get back to sleep; failed. Got up. Did mail, LJ, user pic for meallanmouse, more LJ. Crawled back to bed bubbling like a swamp about 6.45am. Gave Jus lots of cuddles while he woke up. Listened to the news and fumed.
I've just taken quite some amount of ibuprofen. I may actually be a wee bit delirious, since my head is working even less properly than usual, temporal dislocation taken into account. I can't find the thermometer, but a casual hand-to-the-forehead feels like it should sizzle like an iron.
At least I still have some unread books from Monday, so I think I'll get another mug of tea, retreat to the pit, finish off Three Hands In The Fountain, and, if I'm still awake, start another book.