That describes my every waking (and sleeping) moment since my last post. I woke up the morning after my supervision with a sore throat and now, eight days later, nose chafed and chest gummy, I'm going to attempt to stagger back to the university.
I have, however, managed to write the first section of my lit review. Actually, it's the middle section, the part on performance studies, which I'll be presenting (at radically reduced volume from usual) tomorrow at the Dance/Film/Theatre Research Week. Though of course now there's no department of Dance/Film/Theatre as such, there's just a School of Arts, with a bunch of musicians, a bunch of sound recording people, a bunch of actors, a bunch of dancers, and me. Picture me flopping around like a fish in the bottom of a canoe. Flop, flop.
Handily, the image applies both to my sense of being unlike the others in my group and to my ability to blend in with a bunch of highly trained, super-lithe dancers.