and I got mononucleosis. So I can't go back to Africa for a month. As any of you who have had mono know, the course of treatment is to sit on your thumb and wait for the mono to leave town. And no smooching.
It took the doctors a week and a half to diagnose me. You could see how excited they were to possibly be dealing with some bizarre new plagus africanus. Instead just crappy old acute infectious mono. Bummer. For me especially, as I have no job and no place in particular to live, and a couple of good ideas for West African stories that I'd really like to get to reporting.
But J-Dogg, you ask, what does this mean for the blog? Dunno. I'll probably keep it moving to try and keep the sand out of my writing gears, but things won't be very exotic for a month or so. I have all of jackola to contribute to the debate about Liberia. That could change, but at the moment I feel very comfortable qualifying my knowledge of Liberia as Jack Crack on a monkey's back.
So I dunno. Look forward to tiny stories about people who walk by my window and the dumb idiot lady who over charged me for my pudding packs or whatever. It'll be a pantscrappingly good time.
