I was looking forward to tonight. Emphasis on the was there, because unfortunately, ten minutes ago, as I was just ready to leave, my body decided it was time for my dinner to leave, the way it came in. At least that’s what it felt like. So far dinner is actually staying down, but it’s a close run thing.

So I’ve just phoned to let people know I won’t be coming tonight, and taken my temperature. It’s definitely higher than it should be. I’ve no doubt it’ll be a successful night without me there. My role as an organiser wasn’t really huge for tonight. But I hate not being there. Still we only get one body, so I suppose I’ll have to live with it.

And live with it I will, which won’t stop me regretting the night I’m missing. It’s not that often that you get a chance to watch Enemies of Happiness with Malalai Joya actually present. But there’s nothing to be done about that now.

For more about the night see this or its Google translation

Update: It’s a bit over an hour later now. The bad news is that I have just thrown up. The good news is that I actually do feel better for having done so. With luck this will at least be over tomorrow.

To be honest the title of this post is just two words mashed together pretty randomly, but it looks good. And it does sort of make sense, provided this post is about the weekend. This makes sense because:

1. I finished reading Terry Pratchett’s Discworld (that is to say all Discworld novel’s published until now)
2. I had a slight fever, courtesy of the legal firm of Headachy, Tired and Warm (who probably aren’t a legal firm, but sound like one)

Fortunately the legal firm seems to have left me this morning – although I think one of mister Tired’s assistants is still hanging around – but the fact remains that I’m at a bit of a loss as to what to read next. Of course I only started reading Discworld about a month and a half ago (as far as I can trace April 10th seems about right).

For some reason I feel compelled to go all mathematical about that, so which has led me to calculate that 36 novels in 45 days equals 0.8 novels per day, or 1.25 days per novel. That translates as an average of just 30 hours between finishing two novels.

That’s just averages of course, it was usually slower than that on week days and faster in the weekends – I went through novels 33 through 36 this weekend plus some short stories. Of course this weekend part of it was down to the fever, which meant I didn’t feel up to anything much other than reading, but still I was averaging more than 2 books each weekend even before this little unintended sprint to the finish.

Of course there are plent of other things waiting to be read, but right now I’m at a loss as to what to pick. Still no doubt something will leap to my eye, who knows I may even blog about it.