Why, when you're about to take time off work for three and half weeks to write and think and plan and produce...

 

Why, when you're about to take four days to drive up to Nowra from Melbourne...

 

Why, when the film festival is in its final week and you've just spent seventy extra bucks on tickets...

 

Why, four days before your birthday...

 

Why, when you've been working full time and you could have been sick AT ANY POINT DURING THAT TIME...

 

Does your head decide to infest itself with throaty, snotty I-need-to-lie-down-and-be-useless-now style illness?

 

Why?

 

PS Yes I am aware there are wars and famines and that I have a cold and a job and a writers residency and that I should pipe down and stop being such a drama queen but shoosh please. This is clearly some kind of law of nature and it is my job as a writer to report it. 

 

PPS. I saw a really good film last night at MIFF. Boy A. Apart from a few mental Japanese films (huzzah!) it's been mostly doccos that have piqued my interest, but I can't get Boy A out of my head. Look out for a release.