Feeling rotten

I don’t know if it was down to a change in atmospheric pressure this afternoon, or the after effects of eating an ice cream, or too much coffee, or not enough coffee, but the backside fell out of my world today. When a work colleague takes a good look at you and then asks if you’re feeling alright, that’s probably a sign that you’re not. Still, I struggled on until the end of the day, then walked to my Spanish class, feeling ready to faint. Perhaps this means I shouldn’t go spinning late at night.

In the Spanish class, I realised that as well as forgetting how to conjugate past tenses, I’d forgotten how to ask questions. At this rate, in a few months I’ll be able to utter "muy bien" and nothing else, and my daughter will speak better Spanish than me.

Afterwards, I took the train home, to find my wife passed out on the sofa and my daughter sound asleep. For the past two weeks she’s been very little trouble to get to sleep. She’ll wake up yelling about midnight, but who doesn’t, these days?

My phone decided to stop working today, which, after my Fitbit’s rebellion/self destruction is making me have misgivings about all technology. Perhaps I will go and live in a cave and subsist on berries and tree bark, occasionally dreaming of touchscreens and USB memory sticks. I was horrified enough yesterday to realise most of my coworkers were born after Transformers:The Movie (the original, good one with Orson Welles, not the Michael Bay travesties) and as a result are too young to even have a chance of remembering that film. It’s as far from their experience as the Vietnam War was from my formative years. What kind of world can we live in where the sacrifices of cartoon robots are forgotten?

And so to bed. I need sleep to fight this cold, this feeling of lassitude. Tomorrow, and tomorrow

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