My lofty expectations of "business as usual" this week were dropkicked to the concrete and trampled by a ball room dance number. The Great Flu of 2016 that derailed March Break dreams has kept motoring on leading to an extra body remaining camped out on the couch and demanding some fatherly compassion. This has meant almost a week and half now of productivity being scuttled out to the ether and the subsequent stresses playing doubles tennis in my gut. But finally, the light has broken from the clouds this afternoon when the young boy asked "what can I do" and is now roving about the premises with a mild cough being easily ignored. The other roamer also started her favourite activity of chucking things off the table and screaming at stuffed animals. I don't think it is too foolish to be excited about a regular Wednesday where I get to type words for money again.