|Introducing (from left) Tom, Bert and William. Please don't laugh at Tom, he was part of a subway accident.|
And that wasn't the end of the week's bad luck.
So last Wednesday afternoon I think it was, I started getting an odd sort of pain when I walked. By the time I left work I almost couldn't sit on my motorbike, and that night I couldn't sleep for the magnanimous fever which had literally taken minutes to spring upon me, however fevers work.
Turns out, come Thursday morning, I had the most horrible infection ever a man could get. Oof. And don't think I picked it up from anyone, I'm what they call "grey ace"; look it up.
Once my immunity had dropped, old Pappy Nurgle found out I was unwell and he started sending me all these presents to make me feel... loved, I suppose, if not better. It was like a bunch of "Don't Get Well" presents.
Before long it felt like I had every ailment The home physician describes and was hopelessly stuck in bed; only this morning (Tuesday) have I been able to hobble out and do a bit of constructive stuff. Thanks, Nurgle. No, my Chapter is STILL loyalist, and no I WON'T collect Death Guard.
If there was one good thing that came of the fevers, it made for some, um... unique characters for my second novel, like this chap below, the Blue Scissorknight.
And that's that! I'm hoping to be well enough to get back to work on Friday (thank Throne for understanding employers!!) and by that time I will be clean enough to approach the Sago altar once again and continue kitbashing. Here's hoping, anyway.
Bye bye for now.
|What the fevered mind of a madman thinks is a decent suit of armour|