Fever + diarrhoea = ?

Since Wednesday night, I've been pondering the mysteries of this equation. This morning, my friendly neighbourhood doctor informs me that it's probably an evil gastroenteritis flu of some sort and doses me up with antibiotics. This means that while I will not spend most of G's wedding tomorrow either hunched over with intestinal pain or passed out from a fever, I will also not be able to drink a drop of wine. Dammit!

Just after Sprite and Dan gave us two bottles of Absolut (one Mandarin, one Vanilla) too!

Nevertheless, went to work on Thursday and Friday, and felt very virtuous (that's a gratuitous Bridget Jones reference for Nardac's enjoyment). Will feel even more virtuous next week, since the project completion schedule has been pushed back and now infringes on my leave plans. It's a good thing for the bosses that I a) give a damn about this project, and b) get along so well with the account manager and the team --- or I'd be really growly right now.

Tonight, we're bound for Sunset Grill. Since Kris and I are getting our nails done in the afternoon, it'll be tricky for us to partake of Jerry's famed buffalo wings --- unless we convince the husbands to peel them for us (hint, hint!)...

Oh wait, what did the doctor say about avoiding deep-fried and oily food?