Just so you know, I’m part of the majority these days. Specifically, the majority of people who had their flu shots this winter. Turns out this is one of those years where the vaccine was significantly less effective than we all hoped–according to my doctor, sixty percent of those who got their shots also got the flu.

On the bright side, that means forty percent didn’t get it. I regard you lucky minority with envy.

I tell you this not because I’m advocating against flu shots. Quite the contrary. I’m well aware that some years are better than others, and we just drew the short straw this time around. I’ll get my shot next year, and the year after, and so on until medicine comes up with something better. Hell, I’d get my shot even if I knew 40% was the best it could do. It’d be worth it to have a shot at being in that group.

Nor am I telling you this because I’m looking for sympathy or because I’m announcing a temporary suspension of civil libertiesthe blog. Posts will continue. They just may not be hugely coherent.

Yeah, go ahead and get it out of your system. “How can we tell the difference?” I know there’s at least one wiseass out there thinking exactly that. I’m going to ignore you with dignity.

Right now my attention span compares unfavorably to Sachiko’s. She’s seamlessly shifting between watching birds at the feeder and sleeping in front of the heat vent. That’s about one and a half more things than I can do right now. And I can’t even blame it on drugs. No, this is all on my body, too busy diverting resources to the battle against the viral invader to spare anything for linear thought.

Look, it’s so bad, I can’t even turn on a ball game until I finish the blog post. If I were to turn it on, I’d bounce back and forth between the computer and the game, appreciating neither and–

Excuse me. I was watching a flock of turkeys walking up the street. They’re about to collide with a crew of Jehovah’s Witnesses. This should be interesting. My money’s on the birds winning right of way.

Unless the Witnesses make a fort out of their copies of The Watchtower. Then maybe they can stand off the birds by hiding inside and playing loud music. “All Along the Watchtower,” maybe? Hendrix version, naturally. Turkeys, being contrary souls, would probably prefer the original Dylan version.

Where was I?

Oh, right. Who needs coherency anyway? Other than laser manufacturers, that is. An incoherent laser is just a power-hungry flashlight.

Sorry. I’ll shut up and go watch some baseball now. See you Thursday when I just might have finished rebooting my brain.

6 thoughts on “SAST

  1. You know, your last couple of paragraphs make me wish that the effects would hang on a little longer. Not, however, if you continue your illness from which I hope you speedily recover and than Maggie doesn’t contract. I got the shot, too. Bring ’em on!


  2. I am among the minority who haven’t had to deal with the flu, but I had a six-week run of labyrinthitis, bronchitis, labyrinthitis again, and a nice little back injury. My sympathies, and may this run its course MUCH more quickly.

    If this is your writing while compromised with the flu, though, I may just have to quit bothering entirely. You’re too good!


    • Thanks for the good wishes, and I hope your assorted body parts are once again working correctly.

      Don’t sweat my virus-infected writing. Aside from the fact that it’s not a zero-sum game*, my deepest fear is that I can only write this well under the influenzace. Hmm. Maybe I should do up a new query before I start feeling better.

      * (For those who don’t know the term, in this context it means there is not a fixed amount of writerly competence, so my gain doesn’t mean Diane’s loss or vice-versa.)


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