Sickday with the Mets
So, I get to the station this morning and feel awful. Truly awful. Y’know, with italics and everything. And for once, I do the sensible thing. I turn around, head straight home and phone in sick. I’m not going to be one of those martyrs spreading my illness on the train, at my workplace, and on the train home. I sometimes feel guilty being off work ill, but not today.
I figure I should just lay up and rest, and watch something that is not too taxing. While Homes Under The Hammer has a certain allure, I decide to watch last night’s Mets game, at the Arizona Diamondbacks.
Baseball, much like cricket, seems the perfect sport to relax you and let wash over you. It was a good way of keeping me laid up on the sofa, recovering, as the game went on for a mighty four and a half hours. I did take a lengthy snooze-break in-between.
After all that, they lost. And they didn’t even play that well. Since the All-Star break they have only won once, and that was after a duff call from the umpire gifted them the game.
Still, they were there for me all day as I felt sorry for myself. So I won’t be too hard on them.