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Friday, March 19, 2004

It's A Sick World, Sick, Sick, Sick...

So far 2004 is the year of being ill. Between me, Mrs Dio and Elis I don't think we have had a single day since the start of the year, where one of us wasn't ill. Just as I finish up work for a week off, I come down with a cold. I finished work early because I felt so rotten, came home and slept all afternoon in a fevered haze.

I woke up then to the strains of Elis projectile vomiting over himself, Mrs Dio and his bedroom floor. Three sleep suits and several nappies later, the poor lad is just settling down, hopefully for the night (who do you think you are kidding Mr Dio?)

And as well as physical sickness, I see with utter despair that the old misanthropic sickness of ethnical cleansing is struggling to raise its head yet again. Mass rape and murder in East Sudan and troops back into Kosovo, amongst many of the stories developing as we speak.

Could someone please just wake me up when 2004 is over? I would say wake me up when people learn to treat each other with a modicum of decency and respect, but hell, I don't think I'd ever wake up. And as if that wasn't all cheery enough, tomorrow is my birthday. Ask me if I care?

Posted by Dio Bach at 23:40  

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