No riding for the rest of this week. I came back from a weekend in the country with what I thought was a dose of hayever, went for a ride on Monday and discovered that it was the start of the flu. Have spent the last 24 hours in bed, coughing up green slime and alternatively shivering and sweating. Every joint hurts. Every muscle aches. Typing this is really hard. Even my skin hurts, and when I breathe, it burns right down to my diaphram. I'm now also siezing up from loafing in bed for an extended period.
So when people say, "What do you think about the election?", my response is, "What election?" The most important thing to me over the last day has been the distance from my nose to the closest tissue box.
And somehow, in a wierd way, that makes the pain of the free world being ruled by a dusky Hugo Chavez fade away.