I'm sick. It's not an excuse. I promise. I've been sick for the past week. I think it's the flu. Or pneumonia. Or the plague. Something serious, in any event.
Luckily, the plague hasn't prevented me from venturing out in order to randomly spray the air with plague particles (by way of grow-your-own presents for hapless passers-by) and to purchase the best plague cure known to man: freshly squeezed orange juice. It's so good and so available that it hasn't occurred to me to purchase oranges here to squeeze myself. (Actually, that's never occurred to me.) The exertion is completely unnecessary. Nearly every cafe and bar has a juicer at the counter and most will only charge a euro or two for a glass of juice. You can watch them squeeze you a litre at the market for 4 or 5 euros; and they'll even let you take it home.
So, little by little, the plague is abating, which is for the best; so much phlegm does not become a food girl.