It happened again.

On Friday, I woke up with a pretty nasty cold. I grabbed some Paracetemol/Pseudoephedrine/Codeine tablets on the way in to work, and staggered somewhat unproductively through the day. By Friday night, I was in no state to do anything but stagger home and feel sorry for myself.

Saturday, well, Saturday was a write-off. Although I did end up discovering that televised Poker is really quite interesting, and can be particularly dramatic. Unfortunately, for the finals, they introduced this stupid 60 second shot-clock that annoyingly capped any real tension that could build up during a hand. If only Americans understood cricket, this sort of thing wouldn't be allowed to happen.

Sunday, I woke up feeling like I should just go back to bed. I went out to breakfast instead, but by the time I got home, my head was killing me. A few hours nap... didn't help. Pizza and bad television seemed to be rather useful, though.

I've found that Australian Idol is almost watchable, so long as you mute it whenever anyone's singing. If you do that, then it's all about complete strangers' life-long dreams being crushed in an instant, which is much more fun. (In the same way, Big Brother is also fun to watch if you ignore the competitive aspect, and approach it from the point of view of it being the televised torture of stupid people.)

Anyway, it's now Sunday night, and I'm feeling disgustingly healthy. The cold has lingered for precisely one weekend, and is about to deliver me back to the working week with only a few lingering symptoms.

Bastard.

I wouldn't be that annoyed if this didn't happen all the time. Whenever I get a cold, it almost inevitably starts on Friday, gets bad Friday afternoon, then spends the weekend making its way through my system.

On close examination, the explanation could be one of two things:

1. The universe is a heartless, unfeeling place, arranged (perhaps deliberately by some malicious demiurge) solely to make my life as annoying as possible.

2. I tend to go out on Wednesday nights and drink too much to notice that I'm walking home in the freezing cold, thus robbing my immune-system of any chance to defend itself right before the end of the week.

I still think number one is the most convincing, though.