Apparently British boffins are at the forefront of the war against Mexican Pig sniffles. They're working away on a vaccine that might save the world if push comes to shove. Unfortunately, it takes about six months to develop. Pleasingly though, the experimental work is carried out on ferrets. Unlikely as it might seem, la ferret reacts to being infected with flu in an uncannily human way. If you own a ferret then, don't be surprised if he 'phones in sick in a couple of weeks' time, claiming to have inadvertently eaten a half-cooked sausage at a family barbecue the evening before. The weasel.
On a more domestic note, the wife's been working some brutal hours lately. Bizarrely, this has left me feeling slightly resentful and neglected. I say bizarrely because it implies she's having a whale of a time burning the midnight oil in the office pouring over reams of brightly-coloured and ultimately meaningless graphs. I'm turning into a bored trophy wife à la Mad Men. Before we know where we are I'll be drinking gin before lunch and having unsatisfying rough sex with a semi-literate gardener. We don't have a gardener, or a garden for that matter, but the point is well made. I'm walking the edge here.
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