Sorry for the delay.
I have been laid up in bed with a bug. The bug kept to his side of the bed and I kept to mine. Nothing untoward happened except that every time I tried to put one of my feet on the floor the bug wrapped one of his feelers around my leg and wouldn’t let me go.
The bug must have been very fond of me.
This has been going on for thirty days hence my absence from the scene. I never once woke up to find that I had turned into the bug which is kind of a shame because it would have given me some very interesting writing material that might have made me a household name if someone else, like so many other things in life, hadn’t already beaten me to it.
Mind you, there are limits as to how far I’m prepared to go to be a smash in this business: imagine trying to type with a proboscis cluttering up the keyboard.