A mosquito. Carrying the Ross River Virus.
I didn't notice the petite female digging its nose into my flesh at the time because I was also host to its entire extended family at the time - I was bitten about 200 times in the one night. But she's the one that counted, and I got infected. Without realising anything was amiss I went to the gym the next day.
I need to say something that should probably surprise nobody... the Ross River Virus really sucks. Your joints seize up, you feel more tired, your head blocks up, your immune system is weakend... it really isn't fun. Oh and it makes you prone to depression. For a change.
So basically I haven't being doing the writing I'd like to because I've been told I need bed rest, I've been limping, getting x-rays, taking anti-inflammatories, getting flu-symptons, guzzling Vitamin C, getting stabbed with Vitamin B and this is a disease that instils fatigue.
AND I haven't missed a single day of work! Why, oh lord, did I have to be born Protestant?
In other news from a while ago before I got infected with a disease that's put paid to my noble goal of giving blood I'm entirely out of Pymble. Free of that house that stifled me with its oppressive and surreal atmosphere and Brazil-esque disturbing air coniditioning.
Leaving, however, was quite an odd experience. The lady of the house was trying to convince me to stay even as I gave her the key back and was encouraging me to come around for dinner any time I'd be able. Considering that we had barely spoken while I was there, I wasn't expecting much response at all, yet alone one so strong.
It made me think how shut-off I've become in my day to day life. Since my life turned into the ending of "Blake" a year ago I still haven't really trusted anybody too much. Which hasn't been helped by my two closest friends clumsily lying to me for several months for reasons that I still can't quite fathom. Although, you know, the massive language barrier didn't really help.
But there isn't much point in getting sentimental. That room was bloody awful for me in every possible way. I was getting no sleep, it wasn't close to anywhere for dinner other than Dominos, I couldn't afford the rent and I was sharing with a man who was possibly insane.
That is, he saw ants nest nobody else did and believed that cockroaches had made a nest inside his PSP. Even though it's only slightly larger than a mobile phone.
Oh, and if dear old Kyron is reading this, if anything your complaints my work helped my career, because I've been getting more hours. Cheers, mate!