hey I woke up naked this morning. Which is odd; but not unusual. It happens every now and again. I went to sleep in my pyjamas - well, a pair of funky black surf-label boxers and a funky surf-label t-shirt - and woke up in the freezing cold with my bits hanging out and my sleeping items flung to the four winds. I'm never sure why this happens; sometimes, though, I am semi-conscious of it and remember getting my kit off sometime during the preceding dark hours. But not always; not today, either. Was it a succubus? Or an incubus? I can never remember which one shags guys in their sleep and which one does girls. I don't know. What I am grateful for, though, is that I was the first one awake and nobody sort of came in to bring me coffee and found me like that. That would just be weird. This morning, here at the mighty University of Cape Town Medical School, I am surrounded by dead things. There is a cat on the main road (the main road is cleverly called Main Rd) with its back bent entirely at the worng angle, backwards, and clearly very dead, lying in a puddle, since it's pissing down here again. Presumably it was hit last night, probably by someone speeding or staring at the vast array of prostitutes with their peroxided hair who frequent a 4 km long stretch of the road. In out sterile unit - where we culture man's biggest nemesis to date, the human malaria parasite - there is a dead cricket under the door. I've heard that killing crickets is bad luck. I'm not in the mood for bad luck at the mo. I am no stranger to death - I'm sure most of us aren't; at least of the 6-8 legged insect/arachnid kind. Spiders, praying mantises, 'roaches (never liked the idea of calling them cockroaches, because I always wonder if the reason the name was invented is because someone found a roach on/in his cock. *shudder*), ants, mosquitoes and stuff have all been fair game in the past, although I do try to take spiders and mantises outside and leave them alone if I can and if the spider is not too big or hairy. Of the 4-legged variety, I have killed many. One lizard, accidentally, in my youth; one frog, also accidentally trodden on when I was a kid; and as a result of the nature of my research, a good few hundred little white laboratory mice. Those, unfortunately, intentional. I'm proud to say my technique is efficient, practical and almost flawless. I've become good at it - it's a quick, clean execution and exsanguination. It's not easy, though; but I am looking into new cures for malaria, which claims up to 2 million lives per year, 90% kids younger than 5, so hopefully nobody judges me too harshly for it. My life-saving radio means that I have never (knock on wood) caused any fatalities of the 2-legged kind; not even winging a bird or anything, so that's probably cool. I did wing one guy, though, just a block or so up from this morning's dead cat, but I stopped in tiome and that happened was he kind of tripped over my fender and got up and ran away. Look for cars! Dick. Going to Harry Potter tonight. Then it's Holland against Sweden. Wear orange, everybody. laters PS: I think Claire is avoiding me - I haven't seen her in the building since Tuesday. This is *not* good news.