Sick leave
I must ask gentle reader to forgive me, for I’ve had another rather grim prang. (A prang is an entirely physical condition, as when sports cars collide, though it can carry spiritual implications and cosmic effects, such as death to all parties.) I fear I won’t be writing, even awkwardly like this, for at least another week, and perhaps even longer. For I’m spending too much time collapsed on the floor, up here in the High Doganate. Really I would prefer to be preparing for Christmas, and upsetting the usual hateful customers, although being annoying might not be a spiritual requirement for either task. I might think, theologically, that abstention might be because “I have passed out entirely.” But no; fasting is supposed to be voluntary. So, wrong again.