Oh yes I am. That’s the only rational explanation.
Probably. I have winter vomiting disease, or something very similar. To phrase it gently, since Saturday night and the violent nausea, I have been forced to remain within rapid staggering distance of a latrine, for the bottom has fallen out of my bottom. I’ve lost just over half a stone in the last thirty-six hours or so, most of it water, making this virus the dieter’s dream tonic. I may bottle my own spit, and market it to the gullible and desperate.
I’m getting rid of far more water than I’m consuming (even sips are coming back out of me at a rate of knots), and so I can only conclude that I am liquefying to make up the difference. This time tomorrow, I’m sure, I will be an icky, sentient puddle.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I feel the call of the porcelain once again…