A friend popped round a few days ago and, when I informed him that I'd been laid low for a week, he happily announced that I only had two weeks to go---according to the local bug. (Not two weeks to live but two more weeks of the bug). My sore throat has gone but I'm still coughing, still bunged up, still aching and still feeling like crap. Back in the day, when I was writing 1,000 comic strips a year, I had no choice but to work through stuff like this and I hope you all appreciate my remarkable stoicism. Now that I'm unemployed, that pressure has been removed. I'd still like a virtual hug.