Still more broken

The toe of doom continued to suck all the life out of the me; I awoke at one p.m. and then struggled around the flat.

Whenever I stand up, I get dizzy. Whenever I sit down, I get a rush of blood to the head. And whenever I lie down I get nauseous, so one way or another it hasn't been a pleasant day.

By mid-afternoon I thought I should try and do some work, but with my head feeling like it was revolving and caught in a vice, I doubt I was very productive. At six I gave up trying to think, and repaired the towel rail instead, which my dearest had broken last week.

When she was my girlfriend she had a quite cavalier attitude to bathroom apparatus, managing to inadvertently dismantle the towel rail in our previous flat, dislocate the toilet seat where we are now, and bring the towel rail down here also. I had hoped that with our engagement she would have a little more respect for these things, but clearly that was not to be.

I am much more careful of such things, as a result of my natural indolence, which meant it took me a week to get round to setting the towel rail straight this time. At least some good comes of being stuck at home with a wonky body.

If that wasn't exciting enough, I defragmented my hard drive this evening, which shows you can still enjoy life even if you are an invalid, and finished the evening watching Flame & Citron, a less-than-feel-good epic about the Danes under the Nazi occupation. It didn't end well for anyone involved. And so to bed.