The Game of Thrones has finally finished. It’s over. Done. Eight years of television has come to an end. The actors involved can all move on to other projects now, and try to escape a small army of people who hate the script-writers of the final season of the TV show that made them all household names around the world.
We’ll try to forget that I got up at 4am to watch the final episode – not because I’m a Game of Thrones fanboy – more because I woke up at 1:30am choking on my own snot (yes, I’ve still got the head cold), and then couldn’t get back to sleep.
In the last 48 hours I’ve slept for 2. I can feel my body starting to overheat, in that peculiar way it does when deprived of sleep. I just need to get through dinner, then I can try to sleep again – aided this time by a variety of medication purchased on the way home from work.
I just want to be well again. No sooner had I stopped coughing, the insides of my head went into snot production overdrive – I’ve been clearing my nose for the last three or four days perhaps every hour. If you’re thinking “ew!”, just be thankful you don’t have to see the tissue as it get thrown into the toilet bowl each time I blow my nose.
While at work earlier I began to wonder where snot comes from – surely it must use water from elsewhere in your body. I guess I helped it along the way last night by drinking continuous cups of tea for several hours.
I loved the final episode of Game of Thrones. It re-balanced a number of the problems I had with the final season, and almost redeemed the season as a whole. I say “almost”, because some things still don’t make sense – but I’m not going to write about them because that would turn this blog into one of THOSE blogs.