Singles by Eddie Murphy.

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#100BM Day 79

It’s not quite 9pm, the sun’s not going down for another hour and a bit, and I am ready to crash.

I actually felt better this morning, down to blowing my nose every 5-10 minutes from every 3. I went on a fantastic walking tour and learned a lot. I had an Icelandic hotdog, despite not being much of a meat-eater. I saw cats. I picked up my very strange race kit. I checked out VinbuĂ°in to see just how expensive booze is here (answer? very). Now I am drinking mint tea, eating the local equivalent of digestive biscuits, and about to bust into some rioja* (and water) and go to bed early.

I am running 10K tomorrow, no matter what.

Well, ‘running’ might be too strong a word. I’m fully prepared for personal worst for a race, which is about an hour and 18 minutes. (My best time is just over an hour. I’ve never been speedy.)

I’ll probably get some good photos out of it, though?

Seriously, though. I’m not sick all that often. Sure, my allergies can be horrific, but whatever. That’s nature. But as soon as I go into an airport, I get whatever plague’s going. AND I WORK IN A PLACE THAT THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE PASS THROUGH IN A DAY. You’d think my immune system would have learned to deal.

Maybe I’m just allergic to foreigners.

And I’ve dealt with a lot of them in the last week.

So, now I’m firmly convinced that my immune system is RACIST, y’all.

And no, I haven’t opened that wine yet.

* Fun fact: When Iceland introduced prohibition in 1915, it so deeply affected trade with Spain (who bought a lot of fish from ’round here) that only six years later, they amended the law, making Spanish wine the only legal booze in the country until 1935, when spirits were re-allowed. ‘Strong’ beer (over 2.25% alcohol) wasn’t legal again until 1989.

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