Fahim goes in to work today – he says he’s going to be only 15 minutes or a half hour, and because his motorcycle tires are too low for both of us, if I wanted to come, we’d either have to walk or take a trishaw. I’m all for walking, but it doesn’t really sound like he wants me to come overly much. He’s not feeling well – headachy, sore throat, things like that – so I let him get away with it.
He’s actually gone for three and a half hours. There were some problems with installing firewalls or some such thing, and also problems with my email. Okay. But another Saturday with me not surfing or anything. Darn.
Other than that, what did we do? Honestly, not a whole heck of a lot.
Whatever.
Anyway. That’s about the extent of my day. That and listening to Fahim whine about how lousy he felt as he sweated all over me, the new sofa, and various other pieces of furniture. Our bed was postively dripping with sweat in when we woke up this morning. Yeah, I’ll be fair. He’s legitimately ill. But why do men become such whiners when they’re sick? It’s like they regress to four years old.
I better duck now.
Finished reading The Planet Savers/Sword of Aldones and started reading The World Wreckers.
