I was perfectly hale when I arrived in Loughrea on Thursday night at seven o’clock. By eight o’clock I was in bed sick and sleep. This sucked because I was babysitting both Ella and Frank’s cat Scratchy (I’m not sure who was harder to keep an eye on).

Friday? Mostly not so bad. It felt like a bad head cold. I did the babysit-child-and-cat gig, came back to Galway and helped a few other people from 091 Labs to remove partitions from Aldi…and then I stopped functioning. By eight o’clock Friday I was shivering and by ten I was in the throes of a fully-fledged fever.

The fever broke by early morning, thank god, but I’m still miserable, sick and wrung-out. My hubris was my downfall.

by Mark Grealish

Dashing brigand, handsome rapscallion, father, crazy cat lady and the world's greatest lover and liar, living in Dublin, Ireland.

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