That’s how it feels like. Seems like everybody around me is coming down with something. Bloody hell, my wife doesn’t just have a cast-iron stomach; her stomach is top-grade stainless steel, and yet she’s been knocked flat by a crook gut. And yet I’m fine, even though my stomach is usually more sensitive than hers. And then there’s my colleagues, some of whom are in a walking-wounded kinda state, others not moving anywhere in a hurry…..
I guess my turn will come.
