Woke this morning to a room that wouldn't stay still and eyes that had a will of their own. The virus or whatever it was that struck me down in Paris before I could eat Thumper (as bogwitch so graphically put it) is back. God's judgement on the desire to eat the poor fluffy floppy ears? Probably. On the first night of the trip, I ordered hare, only to be told it was off the menu and to have to make do with duck instead. Still, I didn't get sick from eating Donald so what's God got against him?
I'm so pissed off. Mum is going to be very disappointed and I haven't been up to visit her for over two years.
Back to bed now. Sleep seems to be helping.