I'm on holiday next week. Which is to say, not at work. I'm not actually going anywhere, because I'm poor and a bit lazy. Unless Cambridge counts, which it probably doesn't.

I always spend the last couple of hours at work before going on leave in the same way: wondering how early is too early to switch on my out-of-office auto-reply or as it's better known the Smug Message. I won't mention that I'm planning to spend the week doing my laundry and reading obscure journal articles about library anxiety (ha! if our students are anything to go by this is cunningly disguised as library apathy) though; let them all think I've gone to Barbados.

Book 64: A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
I quite like Bill Bryson. I know he's a bit uncool and woolly in his travel writing but I've always found it funny. This isn't a travel book, it's a science book, and as I've said before I'm not very good with science, but I thought it might make it all simple. And hilarious. It doesn't, but it does cover an enormous amount of ground (literally) while including lots of random factoids and stories about eccentric explorers and stuff. Sadly, the only thing that sticks in my mind at the moment is that a human egg is about 85,000 times bigger than a sperm. Think on.

Tags: 50 Book Challenge

14:36

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Here's something for my single intellectual readers (I know you're out there somewhere). Run out of ideas for where to meet new people? Finding that Creation on a Saturday night just doesn't provide the calibre of potential partners you would wish? Well, the British Library is coming to your rescue. Personally, I'd rather eat my own foot have a nice quiet night in with the Archers than hang out at the British Library on a winter Monday talking about past winners of the Nobel Prize, but maybe that's just me.

Speaking of the Archers, RIP Mary Wimbush aka Julia Pargetter-Carmichael. A lady.

Tags: The British Library dating

16:23

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Ah viruses, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways:

1) there is seemingly no symptom that might not decide to manifest itself as the immune system shouts WTF? and sends for the white blood cells: fever, sweating, coughing, headache, vomiting, the more the merdier.

2) doctors rarely get beyond 'it's a virus' when it comes to diagnosis, let alone treatment. Mine actually decided it was more worthwhile to berate me for buying an expensive brand of paracetamol than to try to, you know, CURE me or anything.

3) it's terribly boring. You come back to work looking wan and martyred but it's still 'oh, a virus, yeah I had a virus last week too'. Well, mine was WORSE.

But there is one thing I can love my virus for: I lost weight. Do I care that it was entirely in sweat and puke? No.

Tags: illness

15:32

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