The last few days I’ve heard people mention cabin fever.
For years I’ve wondered exactly what cabin fever is.
As a teen, my brothers would see the slightest melting trend, and they would develop "cabin fever". Soon the crocuses popped out of the soil, and they would pop out of the house until another winter set in.
Then there were those horrible B rated films where "cabin fever" seemed to always take place in sod shacks with small windows, set in a single room filled with smoke and no one around to provide company to the maniac trapped in the shack. The fake 3D effects of the film would then show the room starting to pulsate and finally everything explodes.
According to these observations, I don’t have cabin fever.
Of course, the highlight of my week may well be an hour of physio tomorrow — stretching, and groaning and climbing the wall.
If that’s the highlight of my week . . .